"Yes, I must have been dleaming, Fred. And I dleamt that Daddy told me a stoly, that Daddy said I came ashole on the beach, dust the same as the Johnnie whale."
CHAPTER VIII.
PLEASANT SURPRISES—FRANK'S YACHT—THE LAUNCH OF
THE WATER-BABY.
Winter had come and gone again, and a very hard one it had been. Of the ten boats that belonged to the bay, and were laid up when not in use in a rock-girt harbour, about half a mile from the village, few had gone out very often. But seldom a day passed that Eean's boat, the Treasure-trove was not seen scudding about somewhere, if wind and weather permitted; and always when Daddy went to sea—and this was no means seldom—the two children went with him, so that Fred had generally one complete holiday every week.
It must not be supposed that Eean was careless with regard to the boy's education on this account. No, indeed. Fred's day at sea was one of real utility, and, young though he was, he knew already how to handle the great boat, and how to steer as well. Toddie too was a capital young sailor lass. She was warmly clad; but though her brave little face might be red, or even almost blue, she never feared to look a storm in the teeth.
Frank had gone away south with his mother to attend a purely English school, for sake of bon ton and the pure English accent. But the children corresponded regularly.
Toddie's letters to Frank were marvels in their way. She could not write very distinctly, so every alphabetical letter was pen-printed.
Frank had not much to tell. His life he was sorry to say was a very humdrum one. He was at a very humdrum school, where the pupils, all "sons of gentlemen," were allowed to do pretty much as they pleased. When they fell behind or lazed it was put down to delicate health. The bold forcing system of the Scottish Church parish schools was unknown at the so-called college at which Frank was engaged in his so-called studies.
His dear mamma spent the winter in the south, that she might be near to her dear boy and only son. She even told the head-teacher, or rather proprietor, of the school that her boy was not in robust health, and that he must on no account be thwarted. The fact is, Frank was as hardy and manly a lad as there was at the college.
He went home to his mother's house every Friday evening, and Fred's letter came punctually every Saturday afternoon, with wee Toddie's printed scrawl enclosed. Toddie's scrawls were really love letters of a sort, and not badly put together on the whole, as regards composition. Daddy spelt every word for her, which she herself could not manage. Here is a brief extract, which shows really that she could write better than she could speak: