"There's Joe's fortune," said Hal, "and a good one too. You will not need to go to sea."
There was an odd and knowing twinkle in Joe's merry hazel eye, which showed to an observing person that he was not quite sound on the question.
"Tate Dotty;" and two little hands were outstretched.
"O Dot! you're a fraud, and more trouble to me than all my money."
With that, Joe sat her up on his shoulder, and she laughed gleefully.
Granny lighted a candle, and began to prepare for supper. While Charlie set the table, Granny brought out the griddle, and commenced frying some Indian cakes in a most tempting manner. Joe dropped on an old stool, and delighted Dot with a vigorous ride to Banbury Cross.
Kit stood beside him, inhaling the fragrance of the cakes, and wondering at the dexterity with which Granny turned them on a slender knife.
"I don't see how you do it. Suppose you should let 'em fall?"
"Ho!" said Charlie, with a sniff of disdain. "Women always know how."
"But they can't come up to the miners," suggested Joe. "They keep house for themselves; and their flapjacks are turned,—as big as Granny's griddle here."