"The dream came true! The dream came true! The golden ship has come in!" cried Sprite, dancing about like a little wild thing, while Mrs.

Seaford laid her slender hands on the captain's shoulders, her eyes filled with happy tears as she quietly said:

"For your sake, dear, I am so glad."

Jack Windom, hardy sailor, and bluff, kindly friend, was more moved than he cared to admit. He drew the back of his hand across his eyes, remarking that the sun was "tur'ble glarin'," but his friends knew that he was fully in sympathy with them, and that his honest eyes had filled with tears, as happy as their own, because of the good luck that had come to them.

"I'm glad for ye, all three of ye, and I wish I could hev lent a hand ter hurried her in, but she's here now, and I'm as glad as you be that she's in safe an' sound. It's a great day fer ye, Cap'n, an' I'm glad, I declare I am."

Captain Seaford again started for the wharf, this time to see not only the new fishing smack, but the vessel that had brought such great cheer to the little home, and with his arm locked in Jack Windom's he hurried down the beach.

Mrs. Seaford and Sprite sat down to talk of their good fortune, and after a time little Sprite said:

"I know I'm not to believe in signs or dreams, but truly I _did_ see the new moon over my right shoulder, and I _did_ dream of a golden ship."

"So you did, dear," Mrs. Seaford said, "and you cheered me wonderfully last evening just by your telling of your lovely dream."

"That's why I told it," Sprite said.

"I thought while I was telling that, you'd not hear the gale, and by to-day the storm would have cleared away, and maybe the ship would come in, and it did."

For a few moments the two sat thinking, then Sprite spoke again of the thoughts that filled her mind.

"Yesterday I tried to read a story in my fairy book, called 'The Gift Ship,' but the ship's masts were studded with jewels, and its figurehead was of pure gold, and some way it seemed too grand, too fine, while Pa was longing for just a plain ship like the other ships that we see every day. I knew it was its cargo that he was anxious about, but the story seemed too good to be true, and I didn't care to read it.

"Now, oh, now I can read it, and enjoy it, too, for no matter how grand the story ship is, Pa has seen the one that he has been looking for, and now we are happy."

"Indeed we are," Mrs. Seaford said; "we are thankful, too, Sprite.

Think how different would be our thoughts to-night if Jack Windom's news had been that the vessel that your father had been looking for had foundered!

"We are thankful indeed, we are grateful, Sprite. Oh, we are blessed with the best news that could have been brought to us," said Mrs.

Seaford.

"I wish we could celebrate in some way when Pa comes back," Sprite said.

"We shall have to be thinking of supper now. Suppose we go out together to set the table, and you shall help me to make it attractive.

"Come! We'll use our prettiest dishes, and we'll set the rose-pink geranium in the center, and then we'll see what we can do toward providing a treat."

CHAPTER XI

LITTLE PITCHERS

The day spent at Aunt Judith's cottage had been delightful, and Harry and Leslie had been such fine playmates that Rose and Polly wished that they, too, were staying at Cliffmore.

A few days had pa.s.sed since the visit, and Princess Polly, still thinking of the day at Avondale, sat stringing sh.e.l.ls on a long rose-colored cord.

She was sitting on a low seat in the garden, her box of sh.e.l.ls beside her. The sh.e.l.ls were for Leslie, and Polly was selecting them with much care, that they might be of nearly the same size.

The garden was charming with its fine wall, and the lovely flowers that blossomed within its enclosure.

The house set well up on the beach, and its broad lawn and flower beds were surely safe from any encroachment by the sea, yet as a precaution, the ma.s.sive wall had been built, and if by any chance a storm should drive the waves a bit too far, they would break against the wall, and then recede, leaving the garden unharmed.

The string of sh.e.l.ls was now nearly a half yard in length, and Polly held it up for the admiration of Rose and Sprite, who had just arrived, and were running along the path.

"Oh, isn't it lovely?" said Rose, "and the colors, how nice they look, first bluish white and then cream white."

"Leslie will like that," said Sprite.

"Anyone would, they're strung so prettily."

"I've ten more sh.e.l.ls to add to the string and then it will be all ready for Leslie. Everybody keep still until I have the ten sh.e.l.ls in place," said Princess Polly, "and then I'll talk with you."

Rose and Sprite pretended to be making a great effort to keep still, but the task was evidently too much for them, and after a few seconds of silence, Rose laughed, Sprite echoed, and then Polly laughed because they did.

"Oh, you two can't keep from talking," she said, "and neither can I, that is, not for very long, but I did keep still until I put the tenth sh.e.l.l on the string, and I'll put it in this little box. There, now I'll listen, for I know you've something to tell."

The three little friends were now sitting on the long garden seat, the tall shrubs behind them making a cool shade.

Mr. Sherwood had had the s.p.a.ce inside the fine wall filled with rich loam, so that inside the garden gate was a genuine country garden, while outside the wall lay the sandy beach, and the surf, and spray.

The flowers in the garden seemed to like the breezes from the sea, for their colors were glowing, and their perfume sweet.

"There's such queer news this morning," Sprite said. "First, a sailor that Pa knows came up from the wharf, and he said a vessel got 'way out to sea, when they found a boy had hidden himself on board, a regular stowaway, and the first fishing smack they met, that was heading for Cliffmore, took him aboard and brought him back, and who do you think that was?"

"Why, how could we ever guess?" Polly asked in surprise.

"Well, that was John Selby, the grocer's boy. You know the store over at the Center," said Sprite, "and I guess you've seen the boy. He's 'bout fourteen, and has red hair, and he's the one that helps deliver goods from his father's store."

Yes, they remembered him.

Good-tempered, happy-go-lucky John Selby. What could have tempted him to leave home, and become a stowaway? Sprite knew why he had done it.

"He said he didn't want to be a grocer when he grew up," she said. "He said he loved the sea, and would rather be a sailor, so now his father says if he'll stay at home and help in the store until he's a bit older, he'll consent to his becoming a sailor, if he still thinks he'd like a sailor's life."

The p.r.o.nouns were a bit confused, but Rose and Polly understood.

They hardly knew whether to be sorry for John or his father.

"It seems hard for John to want to go and leave his father," Polly said, "and it's hard that John can't be a sailor boy if he wants to."

"And you can't know which is the harder," said Sprite.

"Well, I wouldn't think any boy would run away from home when he knew that his father and mother would grieve for him," Rose said.

"I'd think any boy would if he wanted to!" said a sharp voice.