“Heaps!” replied Bob, succinctly. Then, after a pause of meditative chewing: “Like to go aboard? take ye—boat—Cap'n willin'.”
“No, I don't want to go aboard, thank you!” said Star. “I don't like people. But you might just row me round her once, Bob,” she added. “I think I should like that. But we must wait till Daddy comes, of course.”
“Cap'n round?” inquired Bob.
“He's setting the lobster-pots,” replied the child. “He'll be back soon. Bob,” she added, irrelevantly, a moment after, “I never noticed before that you looked like Imogen. Why, you are the very image of her, Bob! Your eyes and your expression are exactly the same.” Bob raised his eyes and surveyed Imogen with a critical air. “Fine cow!” he said at last. “D'no's I mind—'f she doosn't.”
“Isn't she a fine cow?” cried little Star, patting the meek and graceful head of her favourite. “I don't believe there's another such cow in the world. I know there isn't! I think,” she added, “I will take a little ride on her, while we are waiting for Daddy Captain. Will you put me up, please, Bob?”
The obedient Bob lifted her as if she were a ball of thistle-down, and set her on the broad back of the good cow, who straightway began to pace sedately along the bit of meadow, following the guidance of the small hands which clasped her horns. Ah! who will paint me that picture, as my mind's eye sees it? The blue of sky and sea, the ripples breaking in silver on silver sand, the jewelled green, where the late dandelions flecked the grass with gold; and in the midst the lovely, laughing child, mounted on the white cow, tossing her cloudy golden hair, and looking back with eyes of delight towards her companion.
The beauty of it all filled the eyes and the heart of Captain January, as he came up among the rocks. He paused, and stood for some time in silence, watching the little well-beloved figure. “Wal!” he said, “if that ain't one of the young-eyed cherubims, then I never seed one, that's all.”
At this moment Star caught sight of him. “O Daddy,” she cried. “My Daddy Captain, I'm having such a fine ride! It isn't quite as high as a heaven-kissing hill, but it's a heaven-kissing cow, for Imogen is really very high. Dear Daddy, won't you come and try it? there's plenty of room!”
“Thanky, Peach Blossom!” said the Captain, advancing, and greeting the apologetic Bob with a hearty shake of the hand. “Thanky kindly, but I don't believe I will try it. Ridin' was never, so as to say, in my line. I'm stiddy enough on my own pins, but defend me from tryin' to git about on another critter's. And how's all with you, Bob? and why ain't you aboard the Huntress?”
Bob in the fewest possible words related the mishap which had befallen the boat, and asked if he might take Missy out to see her.