She would come running up to the tank with a great show of courage, crying bravely: "Hi, old Mister Dolly! I'se goin' a-put your great eye out!" But when the eye half-looked at her, off she would scud, and all I could see was a mass of flying yellow hair, a whisking of snowy skirts, and my little nymph was gone.
A dozen times a day she would appear, and as long as I remained under water, she would hover near. There was a railing around the tank, which was sunk in, lower than the deck, so she could not fall in, nor could I possibly get out, but as soon as my head began rearing above the water, scoot! little Amy was missing.
We had no hard storm while steaming over the bright Mediterranean. But one day the little man, whose name was Roland, said to wee Amy:
"Clear day, isn't it?"
And Amy replied, woman-fashion, "Yes, booful day, but what sood you do if there comed a big storm, and we all went ricketty, rockerty, and couldn't stand up single minute? Wouldn't you be 'fraid?"
"N-o," said Roland, speaking slowly and thoughtfully, "I don't think I should be much afraid, but I should want to keep quiet and think. What should you do?" and he smiled.
"Oh, me would say my prayers, and keep a-sayin' them," said the child, soberly, then she added, "and up would go my prayers into the sky, and so I needn't be frightened a bit."
Now I don't know in the least what "prayers" mean, but I remembered at once what that other child had done in the storm, and it made me think that the Friend the other little girl trusted lives up in the sky, and can hear when Folks tell that they need help. How lovely! Really, Folks ought to be very thankful for all they know!