Still, the old man was blithe enough, as Bill marvelled to see. His eye was lit up with a flicker of fun, sparkling, somehow, through the rheum of age; and his words were mixed with laughter. They came to rest on a pan—the four of them together; old Jonathan Farr and Bill and Archie and a little lad. And Archie marked this in a glance—that the lad, whoever he was, was out of heart with the work he was at.
A good deal was to flow from that meeting; and Billy Topsail was to have a part in it all.
[CHAPTER XXX]
In Which a Little Song-Maker of Jolly Harbour Enlists the Affection of the Reader
"My gran'son, Bill," said Jonathan.
Archie pitied the lad—a white, soft-eyed little chap, all taut and woeful with anxiety.
"He's young for the ice," Bill observed.
"A young dog," Jonathan replied, "masters his tricks with ease."