ut there are young larks
and not eggs in this nest, so we will let them alone to grow strong
and fly out into the sunshine and sing under the blue sky, won't we,
Bunny?"

You may well believe that the children thought the last part of
their holiday was the pleasantest of all; for beside Frank they had
found another playmate, a great friend of his.

His name was Captain, and he was a grand, black, curly, Newfoundland
dog. Such a fine fellow was seldom to be seen, and he learnt to lie
down in a patch of grass on the hill, just at the place where he
could watch for Bunny and Mervyn when they went out for their
afternoon walk.

He would pretend to be asleep, and when they came quite close to him
would spring up and begin to leap about, leading the way to the
sands, and barking or rolling over and over till Frank or Mervyn
threw a stick as far as ever they could into the sea that he might
dash in after it and fetch it out.

Captain was a splendid swimmer, and had once jumped into the sea
from the end of a pier after a little girl who had fallen into the
water. The child would have been drowned, but Captain seized her by
the frock and held her up till a boat could put out and fetch her,
and then the brave fellow turned and swam ashore.

[Illustration: Chapter decoration.]

CHAPTER XIV.

BUNNY'S IMPROVEMENT. HOME AGAIN.

The time had arrived when the holiday at Scarborough was to come to
an end. The last evening was spent on the cliff. It was while they
were all sitting on the hillside looking out to sea that Frank began
to talk to them about "lighthouses," those tall buildings, having a
strong lantern at the top, the bright light from which can be seen
far out at sea, so that sailors may know to what part of the coast
they are going, and may steer their ships in such a direction as to
avoid danger, or guide them into a place of safety.

Then Miss Kerr told them a story about a lighthouse, and how a brave
and thoughtful little girl was able to save a great ship from being
dashed to pieces on the rocks. This lighthouse was at a very
dangerous part of the coast, and every day the lamps had to be
cleaned and fresh oil put in them, and the great metal "reflectors"
that were behind the lamps and threw the light far out to sea had to
be burnished.

The little girl was the child of the keeper of the lighthouse, and
he often took her with him to stay there. He had a companion, for in
lighthouses there are mostly