He was always in good spirits, so his wife said; and he assured the boys that he did not mind the loss of his leg.
“There’s a philosopher for you,” said Mr. Rowe to Captain Bradstreet; and when the dancing was over, they both went up and shook hands cordially with the happy trick-cyclist.
And now the ship was almost at the end of her voyage. On the afternoon of the Fourth of July the deck was crowded with passengers looking pleased and expectant.
Presently across the sea to port was discerned a brown speck, and caps went up with a shout.
“What are you all making such a noise for? Tell me quick!” cried Weezy, running to the rail where Paul stood clapping his hands. By this time Weezy had quite recovered and was again her healthy, inquisitive little self.
“We’ve sighted Land’s End, Weezy Rowe, that’s what,” answered Paul, with unwonted excitement.
“Oh! Oh! Are we coming to the end of the world, Paul?” Weezy’s eyes sparkled like twin stars. “Are we truly, truly?”
“No, no, not to the end of the world, Miss Quizzy.” Paul smothered a laugh. “We’re only coming to the end of England. There’s a long stretch of world beyond that.”
“Oh, that’s too bad!” sighed Weezy.
And as they sailed closer to the shore, she added in a tone of disapproval,—