There was a want of enthusiasm on his part which was rather painful to the little maiden; but she got the Testament, and when she had read a few verses aloud, she passed the book to Noddy, who stumbled through his portion, and she then finished the chapter. She bade him good night, and retired to her state-room, leaving her new-made friend to meditate upon the singular events of the evening.
He did not meditate a great while—he never did. His thoughts were disposed to stray from one subject to another; and from the little maiden, he found himself wondering whether Mr. Grant had finished searching for him in Albany, and whether Miss Fanny had "let the cat out of the bag" yet. Noddy was too tired and sleepy to think a great while about anything; and he turned into his berth, and went to sleep.
Early in the morning Noddy was on his feet. He went on deck, and found that the Roebuck was a beautiful vessel, almost handsome enough to be a gentleman's yacht. He went upon the wharf, where he could obtain a fair view of her bow, and he was sure she would make good time with a fair breeze. When he had satisfied himself with the examination, he was more than ever inclined to go out in her.
When he went down into the cabin again, Mollie was there, setting the table for breakfast. She looked as fair and as fresh as a country maiden. She gave him a very friendly greeting.
"Do you do these things, Mollie?" asked he.
"O, yes; I always work, and do what I can. I like to do something."
"How old are you, Mollie?"
"Eleven last May."
"But you can't do this work when you are out at sea."
"O, yes, I can."