but I forget the rest, 'cept that
“'—they come to wither there
Away from their childhood's land.'
The waves were mountains high,
And whirled over the deck, and—”
“My goodness, you would get all wet!” said Kate, putting her hand on Bud's shoulder to feel if she were dry yet. Honest tears were in her own eyes at the thought of such distressing affairs.
“The ship at last struck on a rock,” proceeded Bud, “so the captain lashed me—”
“I would lash him, the villain!” cried the indignant maid.
“I don't mean that; he tied me—that's lash in books—to the mast, and then—and then—well, then we waited calmly for the end,” said Bud, at the last of her resources for ocean tragedy.
Kate's tears were streaming down her cheeks at this conjured vision of youth in dire distress. “Oh, dear! oh, dear! my poor wee hen!” she sobbed. “I'm so sorry for you.”
“Bud! coo-ie! coo-ie!” came the voice of Aunt Ailie along the lobby, but Bud was so entranced with the effect of her imaginings that she paid no heed, and Kate's head was wrapped in her apron.
“Don't cry, Kate; I wouldn't cry if I was you,” said the child at last, soothingly. “Maybe it's not true.”
“I'll greet if I like,” insisted the maid. “Fancy you in that awful shipwreck! It's enough to scare anybody from going anywhere. Oh, dear! oh, dear!” and she wept more copiously than ever.