for a
little brother to play with. Every night Gil mentioned the matter in his
prayers; every night he begged the Stork to bring him a playmate. But
though the Stork had hunted far and wide through all the land he could
not find a human baby to spare for the cottage on the hill. Now he had a
happy idea.

With his long legs dangling he flew swiftly up towards the hill; and
halfway there he met the boy wandering about sulkily all alone. The
Stork had never before spoken to this boy, because he well knew what Gil
wanted, and he hated to be teased for what he could not give. So,
though he had listened sadly to the boy's prayers, by day he had kept
carefully out of sight. But now he came close overhead, and settling
down stood upon one leg directly in Gil's path.

"Good-afternoon," he said. "I think I have heard you say that you wanted
a little brother."

Gil was surprised to have a Stork address him like this, but he was
still more pleased at the happy word. "I do! Oh, I do indeed!" he cried.

"Would you make a good brother to him?" asked the Stork.

"Oh yes!" answered the boy eagerly. "A very good brother I should be."

"H'm," said the Stork. "One never can tell about these boys. I think you
are selfish and jealous. But a little brother may be a good thing for
you. In any case, there is little for him to lose. Will you be so good
as to come with me?"

Without another word the Stork flew up and away toward the beach,
leaving Gil staring. This certainly was a most extraordinary bird! But
Gil soon decided to follow him and see what would happen, for who could
tell what the Stork's mysterious words might mean?

Presently, lying in his little cradle, the Sea-child heard the sound of
feet scrambling up the rocks,--the sound he had been taught to fear more
than anything in the world. It was his first thought to flop out of the
cradle, over into the sea below; and he half turned to do so. But in a
moment he remembered the Stork's last words, and although he was
trembling with fear he remained where he was.

Soon over the top of the rock peered the face of the boy, Gil of the
hill cottage, looking straight down into the pool where the Sea-baby lay
snugly on the seaweed.

"Oh!" cried the boy, with round black eyes fixed upon the baby's round
blue ones. "Oh!" cried the Sea-child. And it would be hard to say which
of the two was more astonished. For to a Sea-child the sight of a
clothed, two-legged land-boy is quite as str