Pat the Lighthouse Boy

by Evelyn Everett-Green

Pat was greatly moved and excited by all he saw, and from that day forward was most eager and anxious to regain his strength, that he might be able to explore the wonders of the lighthouse, and see what manner of place his new home was. So he ate everything that his mother brought to him "to make him strong;" he slept from sunset till morning like a young bird. He began to chatter and laugh to his father whenever he appeared; and long before he could attempt to mount the giddy spiral staircase, which led to the big circular room where the great lamp lived, he got his father to tell him all about it, and at night he would get out of bed if he chanced to wake up to see the circle of flashing light which it cast around upon the dark heaving mass of waters. The child was fascinated by the thought of the great lamp's lonely vigil over the wide empty sea long before he was able to understand what it was that it was doing.

The first step in the child's convalescence which seemed to mark the era of "getting better," was when he was able to be dressed and to go into the other room for his meals. The base of the lighthouse was divided into several queer-shaped rooms. There was the sleeping-room, in which the child had hitherto spent all his time; and opening from that was the kitchen or living room, in which he was used to hear his mother bustling about as he lay in bed. There were also, as he presently found out, other smaller and darker chambers. One of these was appropriated to the use of the keeper's assistant, whilst others contained the stores for the lamp and its caretakers, of which mention has been made before. It was quite a surprise to Pat to learn that he and his parents were not the only occupants of the lighthouse. He had never heard any strange voice from the inner room all the time he had been lying in bed, and so he was very much astonished the first day he sat up to supper, to see a heavy-looking dark-browed man come slouching in, and taking his seat without a word of explanation or apology. The child looked wonderingly at his mother.

"That is Jim," she said; "Jim helps daddy with the lamp. They take it in turns to watch. Jim, this is our little boy, Pat—him as has been so ill, you know. I have told you about him often."

Pat looked across the table and nodded, but Jim said nothing, and scarcely appeared to hear himself addressed. He took his food in perfect silence, and as soon as he had finished he got up and went out, and they heard him going heavily up the winding staircase towards the lantern house.

"Can't he talk?" asked Pat wonderingly. "Is he dumb, do you think?" Eileen smiled, and shook her head at the question.

"Nay, he can speak. He has a tongue, but he is wonderful loth to use it. I suppose it is the life here as has made him so quiet. Surly Jim is what folks call him. He has been with several keepers, but none has had a good word for him, save that he does his work well and can be trusted with the lamp. He won't be keeper, though they did offer him the place. But he stays on year after year when nobody else will. He does all his work well, and is very clean and neat; but he scarce opens his lips, save in the way of business, from one year's end to the other."

This seemed so very strange to Pat that he sat for some time turning it over in his mind. He thought when he had time he would try and get Surly Jim to talk to him; but at present there were many other things to think of, and the child's head was crowded with new ideas and questions.

What a fascinating place the lighthouse was! As he grew stronger, he began to explore it from end to end, and found new wonders every hour of the day.

There was the little door leading out to the rocks on which the place was built, and the flight of slippery steps which led down to the tiny creek where the boat lay moored. There were chains for hauling up the boat in rough weather on to a ledge, where it would not be likely to be swept away, save perhaps in the very worst weather; and at low tide there was a wonderful mass of rock uncovered by the sea, where he could wander about and pick up untold treasures, such as he had never seen or dreamed of before. And his mother was not afraid to let him wander about here. She had grown up herself on the wild coast, and had no fear of the slippery rocks and the plashing waves. Pat was only instructed to take off shoes and stockings before trying to scramble about them, and very soon he grew so sure-footed and fearless that neither parent was afraid for him. Moreover, he was growing brown and healthy-looking, and stronger than he had ever been in his life before; and though he might not be very robust for some time to come, he was gaining every day, and they were glad and thankful to see it.