Davy, her brother, a brave, good boy, about fifteen years of age, was all she had to cling to, and she was his only treasure. They were orphans; their father had been drowned, with many other poor fishermen, when Maggie was a wee baby, and the mother, soon after, died, from worry and hard work.
So these two were all alone in the world, but they did not feel lonely, for each one was all the world to the other.
They lived with an old fisherman and his wife, on the shores of the ocean, in New Jersey; and in the inlets and about outside, Davy used to go with the men, in the boats, and help them fish; sometimes he would work in-shore, for the truck farmers; sometimes help to gather the salt hay from the marshes. He would work hard at any thing so as to make money to keep his little sister comfortable and to give her all it was well for her to have.
In winter he would tramp through cold and snow and storms, several miles, to the little town where the school was, and so, every year, he gained a few weeks of instruction.
The people among whom these orphans lived were rough, but kind-hearted, and Davy always had enough work to enable him to earn money sufficient to keep Maggie and himself in the simple way in which every body about them lived.
Whenever he had an idle half-day, or even a few hours, he would take the little girl and his books, and go down to the shore, and getting into one of the boats always to be found drawn up on the sand, he would study hard to learn, for he was anxious to get on in the world, not only for his own, but his sister’s sake, and Maggie would take one of the books, and open it, and run her little fat finger over the page, and move her lips, and make believe that she, too, was studying her lessons and she would keep still as a little mouse, until, after a few minutes of nodding, her eyes would close, then her head would drop on Davy’s knee, and she would be off—sound asleep, until it was time for him to go.
It happened, one afternoon, as Davy, with Maggie, was going to the boat, which was his favorite place of study, a farmer drove along and asked him if he could not go and help with some work.
They were very near home yet, and when Davy said, “Maggie, will you run right home?” she answered, “’Es;” so the brother saw her start off towards the house, which was in sight, then jumped in beside the farmer, and they drove off.
It was several hours before the boy returned. He went directly home, and as soon as he entered, called, “Maggie!”
“Maggie aint here,” said Mrs. Baker, who was busy cleaning up the floor, “she hasn’t been here since you took her out with you.”