The tears came into the sweet blue eyes for a minute as she said, "See dorn up dere, to tay in Dod's house, and Tiny do too if see a dood dal."
Mrs. Coomber laid down the jacket she was patching, and kissed the serious little face. "Is your mother dead, my deary?" she asked, while the tears shone in her own eyes.
"See done to see daddy, and tell him about Tiny," answered the child; from which Mrs. Coomber gathered that mother and father were both dead; and when her husband came home she told him what she had heard, which seemed to afford the old fisherman a good deal of satisfaction.
"Then she's ours safe enough, mother," he said, rubbing his hands, "and when she gets well she'll toddle about the old boat like our own little Polly did."
"But I thought you said Peters was going to see the newspaper man to tell him to put something in the Stamford Mercury about finding her, so that her friends should know she was saved, and come and fetch her."
"I said her mother or father," interrupted Coomber, sharply; "but if they're dead, there ain't anybody else likely to want such a little 'un, and so we may keep her, I take it. But Peters shall go to the newspaper man, never fear," added Coomber; "I don't want to rob anybody of the little 'un; but if nobody don't come in a week, why then, Mary——" and Coomber paused, and looked at his wife.
"Well, then, I'll get out little Polly's things; they'll just about fit her," said Mrs. Coomber, hastily wiping her eyes with her apron for fear her husband should reproach her again for her tears.
When the boys came in, the little girl said, shyly, "Tome and tell me about the nets."
Dick looked at her, and then at his mother.
"What does she mean?" he asked, drawing near the little bed where Tiny lay.