"Yes, ma'am, sleeping as sweet as a lamb! My wife has got him now over here to the hotel—a pretty little yellow-haired shaver, as—"
"O, it's Philly! where is he? Bring him this minute! I know it's Philly!"
And so it was; for, my dears, this is a true story. It was Philip Gray; and he had been saved almost by a miracle. Was the finding of Moses in the bulrushes so strange a thing as this?
His mother was driven to the hotel, where the pilot's wife sat in the public parlor with a baby in her lap.
"O, my boy!" cried Mrs. Gray.
And he rushed into her arms with a gleeful shout,—her own precious "'Philip my King.'"