“Well, well,” cried Jasper running up, “you here, Ben?”
“And David,” cried Polly, quite overcome, and laying her head on Ben’s shoulder.
“Yes, I’m here, of course,” said David, coming out into the hall.
“Jasper!” cried Ben, his honest eyes shining with pride, and reaching past Polly to give him a handshake such as Ben only could give, “run your hand in my coat pocket here; there’s a paper, the Press-Bulletin—it’s all in there about Joe.”
“And I have it in mine,” cried David, whirling out a big journal; “here, Jasper, read mine first.” He shook it in Jasper’s face.
“Softly, there,” cried Jasper just as excited. “Polly, hold one of these fellows—take Dave there—while I get this paper out of Ben’s pocket.”
“Polly read mine—read it,” implored Davie. So Polly deserted Ben, and fastened her brown eyes on the sheet Davie held for her, and Jasper read his out too; and no one who hadn’t learned it before could hear a word of it all,—how the Rev. Joel Pepper had worked for nine long hours with the sailors to subdue the fire; and when it was found that the ship couldn’t be saved, he it was who kept by the captain’s side and maintained order, so that everybody got off. And then, at the very last, those three—the captain and the Rev. Joel and a sailor named Jim—had jumped for their lives; and the cattle steamer, after picking up the boat-loads, had come to their rescue, to discover them floating on broken spars. And the clergyman was injured, but was recovering in Liverpool. And Mr. Horatio King and his grand-daughter were passengers. Oh, and it was a marvel that no lives were lost! And then followed glowing praises of Joel.
“Hear, hear!” cried Ben and Davie, pounding for order. “One or the other of you stop.” And in ran Alexia and Pickering.
“Oh! what is it?” cried Alexia, rushing up to Polly.
“They are so excited they don’t know what they’re reading,” cried Davie.