“But I couldn’t be a sailor boy, because——”
“Because what?”
“Because I should be afraid to climb the ropes and things so high. I should be afraid of falling on the deck and killing myself, or falling into the sea and getting drowned,” pleaded Rosemary.
“Now, don’t go to tell me that you have inherited your sailor forefathers’ sea heads and sea legs without their stout hearts! Don’t go to tell me that!” said the skipper, taking his pipe from his mouth and staring down at his little companion.
The quaint little creature looked so ashamed of herself that the old man took pity on her, and said:
“Ah, well! you are nothing but a bit of a girl, after all, and the very tiniest mite of a girl, for seventeen years of age, that I ever saw in my life! Well, you shan’t be a sailor and work on board ship! You shall be a dainty little lady in your own house:
“‘With servants to attend you
When you go up or down.’
“Come, now! tell you old uncle a secret: Isn’t my lord sweet on you?”
And the old sailor took his pipe from his mouth and poked the stem of it into her side.