She was abashed by the roar of laughter that followed the proposal. Papa Benson flung himself on the floor and rolled over and over. Long Joe uttered whoops of delight. Even Mr. Bob shook with speechless mirth, till the veins on his forehead stood out like strings. Never in all its history was there such a hullabaloo in the Land We Live In. As the rumpus died down something very like remorse overwhelmed the roisterers as they saw Daisy's flushing, quivering little face, hot with mortification.

It was Mr. Bob who sprang to the rescue before the br.i.m.m.i.n.g tears could fall.

"I'm on!" he shouted, rising to his feet with unexpected enthusiasm.

"Now, then, boys, who says 'Aye, aye' for the Band of 'Ope?"

A good part of the crowd would have preferred to stay by their spree; but so contagious is example and so sheeplike the sailor nature, that the whole room fell in with Bob, and answered his call like one man.

He swung Daisy up on his shoulder, where, from that dizzy perch, she looked back shyly at the noisy pack behind her. Secure in the conquest of the ringleader, whom intuitively she felt stronger than the rest, and kinder and more resolute, with a heart beneath his rough exterior as simple and childlike as her own, she managed to keep up her courage in spite of the loud, frightening laughter and the tipsy boisterousness and horseplay that marked the inception of the Band of Hope. Her satisfaction was suddenly checked, however, by the sight of the Kanaka girls joining the procession and making as though to follow.

"No, they mustn't come!" she cried out jealously. "Please, Mr.

Mathison, tell them they mustn't come! This is to be for men only!"

"Turn them back!" thundered Bob. "Don't yer 'ear the little lady's _h_orders? Scamper, ye jades!"

Papa Benson struck up a quickstep on the concertina, and, marching beside Bob Fletcher, helped to lead the van. The mutineers, beach-combers, and traders fell in two by two. The rear was brought up by the guard, loutish, hobbling, and out of step, bearing their rusty Springfields at all angles. In this fashion they made the missionary's house, swarmed into the neat bare inclosure of coral sand, and invaded the silent rooms.

A terrible irresolution was stealing over Daisy. Twelve slides, representing the wanderings of Saint Paul, began to seem too trifling a means of holding the attention of this enormous and expectant crowd.

Besides, it came over her with a shock that she was a little hazy about Saint Paul; and then there were disturbing questions of sheets and darkened windows, and how to make it work. It was with dismay, verging on despair, that she saw the serried ranks of her recruits crowding the room to bursting, and all regarding her with humorous antic.i.p.ation. But good Mr. Bob, holding her in his lap, and stroking her hair with an enormous red hand, showed a most comforting disposition to himself take the breach. At any rate, he roared for silence; told Mr. Mathison he'd cut his liver out if he didn't belay with them there remarks, and a.s.sumed a tone of authority that calmed the tumult of Daisy's misgivings.

"Friends," he said, "and mates, and respected genelmen _h_all, we are here, two and three gathered togetherlike, for the purpose of _h_organizing a Band of 'Ope."

"Local Number One," interrupted Billy Dutton, the donkey-man, who had had some trades'-union experience.

"Band of 'Ope, Local Number One," continued Mr. Bob, receiving the suggestion in an accommodating spirit. "And it is with great pleasure I propose the name of _h_our first president, Miss Daisy Kirke, of Apiang."

Then, my stars, wasn't there a cheer! Daisy hung her head, nestled closer to Mr. Bob, and felt all the joy of good works promptly bearing fruit.

"I don't see no reason," went on Mr. Bob, "why a false modesty, that 'as been my _h_unfailing 'andicap through life, should prevent me from nominating myself as your _h_esteemed vice president. I do not wish to seem a-soaring too 'igh, or reaching out for honors that belong to _h_abler 'eads nor mine; but I'll take the sense of the meeting in a kindly spirit, and will abide peaceable by a show of 'ands!"

When the applause had subsided, Billy Dutton sprang up, and wanted to know "what about a recording seckitary?"

"I don't see no 'arm in the honorable genelman _h_a.s.suming the job 'isself," said Mr. Bob, "if 'e thinks 'e's sufficient of a speller, and won't run the band into 'orrible extravagances for 'igh-priced wines and luxuries. The a.s.sessments of this band is going to be low, and the diet plain. Who says Brother Dutton ain't the man for the place? Is it you, Mr. Riley, I see raising your fist agin him? Oh, only to ax a question.

Well, one thing at a time, Brother Riley. Does the meeting _h_endorse Mr. Willum Dutton for recording seckitary?"

The meeting did, vociferously and with cheers. Daisy ran and got her slate for the recording seckitary, who thereupon (after first inscribing the names of the office bearers in a shaky print) began to draw a wonderful picture of a pirate ship.

"Afore listening to the plans of our valued president," said Mr. Bob, "I propose myself to _h_offer up a few general remarks on 'Ope! Me and 'Ope is old friends, genelmen. We set sail together from the port of London, 'Ope and I, when I was a bright-faced boy that 'igh! We've bunked in together, fair weather and foul, coming on this thirty year. We 'ave set in our time, me and 'Ope, on the bottom of a capsized schooner, ore laden out of Mazatlan, with our tongues 'anging out like the tails of some vallyble new kind of a black dorg. 'Ope and I took the Chainy coast once on a chicken coop. 'Ope and I, when we 'ad the dollars, blew them in right royal. 'Ope and I, when we 'adn't none, tightened our belts and cheered each other _h_up. Looking back over all them years, I want to stand _h_up and testify right 'ere to the best friend of the sailorman, bar none, and p'r'aps the _h_only one he ever truly 'ad--and that's 'Ope, G.o.d bless her!"

Amid the ensuing uproar, which jarred the walls of that prim missionary residence like an explosion of dynamite, spilling plates off dressers and c.o.c.k-billing texts, and arresting the astonished clock at four forty-six, little Daisy was trying to nerve herself to address the a.s.sembled company. The unforeseen docility of the band had put new ideas in that sleek, baby-seal head. Odds and ends of tracts and storybooks recurred to her. Infantile ambitions awoke and clamored. But it was daunting, just the same, to confront those rows of eyes, and those great big, unshaved, s.h.a.ggy-looking faces, all keenly waiting for her to speak.

"Now, then, little lady," said the vice president, "'ere's your Band of 'Ope, a-panting to set its 'and to the plow!"

Daisy cleared her throat. Pride and timidity struggled with each other in that eager little countenance. Had it not been for an encouraging squeeze from Mr. Bob, who knows but what she might have burst into tears, and disgraced herself before the whole band. But the squeeze, coming exactly at the right time, averted so mortifying a catastrophe.

"My dear friends," began Daisy, catching with unconscious mimicry some of the rounded tones of her father's voice--"my dear, kind friends!"

"Well, go on," cried Mr. Bob; "that's a swell start! That's the way to wake them up!"

"Hear! hear!" (This from a dozen places.)

"I have called you togevver," went on Daisy bravely, "so we might enjoy the travels of Saint Paul, which belongs to the magic lantern Santa Claus brought me this morning for Christmas, because I'm such a good little girl. Saint Paul was a kind of a sailor, too, and got shipwrecked, like Mr. Bob, in an awful storm. I used to know all about Saint Paul, but somehow I've got mixed up about him since. Perhaps one of our members will oblige, so we'll know what the slides are about when we get _w_ound to them?"

There was a profound silence. No one volunteered. Billy Dutton, looking up from the pirate ship, to which he was adding some finishing touches, said he was afeared the president would find them a sad, ignorant lot of ignorpotammusses.

"Then we'll just have to get along without Saint Paul," said Daisy regretfully. "Perhaps it is as well, too, for Bands of Hope isn't only for amoos.e.m.e.nt, but to do good, and help uvvers, and carry the glad tidings right and left into the darkest corners of the earth."

"Gee-whilikins!" exclaimed Sammy Nesbit, "where's this we're fetching up to, mates?"

"Silence! _H_order! Shut your face! Dry up, there, Sammy!" roared the Band of Hope.

"I was finking," went on the president, confidentially and undisturbed, "why a nice little surprise for papa wouldn't be as good an idea as any.

It's an awful long way to Tarawa and back, and papa's never been werry strong since the fever he got in New Guinea, before he married mamma with Mr. Chalmers."

"Wot sort of a surprise _h_exactly?" asked the vice president with an expression of some doubt.

"Putting up mottoes _w_ound the walls," returned Daisy, "and green branches and palm leaves and texes and Merry Christmas, like grandpapa's in Devonshire, when I was a little tiny winy girl. And papa will be so pleased and happy and surprised that I know he'll just love it, and won't never feel tired at all!"

The Band of Hope, who seemed given to singular and inextinguishable fits of laughter, promptly went off into another paroxysm; and laughter with the Band of Hope was no drawing-room performance, no polite t.i.tter behind an upraised hand. When the Band of Hope laughed, it rolled on the floor, beat its clenched fists against neighboring backs, screamed, huzzaed, cat-called, kicked pajama legs in the air, and shook the pictures off the walls. Mr. Bob seemed to be the only one who knew how to behave, but even Mr. Bob grew crimson in the face, and choked, and opened his mouth till you could see way down his froat.

"Genelmen," he said, when at last he had somewhat recovered, "you've listened to our _h_orders, and I'll _h_only remind you that them that _h_ain't with us is agin us, as Saint Paul says. Back-sliders and goats may return to the bar, but me and the fleecy sheep is agoing to see this thing through, and do our dooty _h_under the regilations by Board of Trade _h_appointed. Goats, as I said afore, will kindly rise and step out!"

"We ain't no blooming quitters," spoke up Billy Dutton. "Goats, nothing, you wall-eyed old ram! You want to cinch all the texes for yesself, and make a running with our lovely president. But we are on to you, Bob Fletcher, and I voice the sentimomgs of the whole band when I says with Saint John, in the forty-first epistle to the Proosians, 'Wot you put your fist to, that do it with all yer might!'"

"Aye, aye!" chorused the band with boisterous approval.

"Then _h_up and work, you devils!" exclaimed the vice president. "Pull out that table, Mack; and you, there, bear a 'and to 'elp 'im, 'Enery.

Set _h_up the little chair, Williams! Easy with Saint Paul, you, Tommy, or you'll crack him sure--and lay the whole caboodlum on the shelf, _h_out of 'arm's way! Lively, lads--lively!"

Bob lifted Daisy in his arms, and carrying her to the table, installed her comfortably in the little chair.

"Captain's bridge," he said; "and if anything ain't right, or just _h_according to your _h_idears, you sing out to the lower deck, loud and 'earty; only mind you don't get _h_excited and spill orf!"

Daisy's eyes danced, and her timidity all vanished as she saw the jovial and obedient band grouping together and hotly discussing the proposed decorations. Distances were measured with tarry thumbs. A party of six was told off to climb the cocoa palms across the road; while another, shouting and hallooing like schoolboys, was dispatched to Holderson's station to get sinnet. There was a noisy wrangle over spelling. "I never seed it like that," said one, squinting over Billy's slate, "and I don't believe n.o.body else ever did neither." "For the love of Mike," roared another, "let's stick to them words we're all agreed on, and keep off of that thorological gra.s.s!" "Man and boy, I've been to sea this thirty years," exclaimed Mr. Bob with crushing vehemence, "and there warn't no T in Christmas then, and there ain't now! C-R-I-S-S-M-A-S, you son of a sea cook, and I know _h_every letter of it like the palm of me 'and!"

In a corner, dispa.s.sionately aloof from all the bustle and argument, Papa Benson, that venerable dandy of the pink pajamas, pumped up the concertina, and drew melodiously on his ancient repertoire. To the inspiring strains of "In Her Hair She Wore a White Camellia," "Oh, Buffalo Gals, Won't You Come Out To-night?" and the "Mulligatawny Guards," the good work progressed with sailorlike speed and system. The bare, dreary room grew gay with greenery. St.i.tched to the matting walls with sinnet there appeared letters, words, and finally complete inscriptions: PEAS ON ERTH AND GOODWILL TOWARDS MAN; DAISY KIRKE, THE SEAMAN'S STAR; MERRY CRISSMAS, and G.o.d BLESS OUR HOM.

Daisy clapped her hands with delight, and did not stint her praise or approval. Occasionally she would stand up on the "bridge" to anxiously point out a crooked letter, or call attention to a doubtful spelling; and her little heart overflowed with satisfaction at the brisk "Aye, aye, Miss!" that greeted her smallest criticism. Mr. Bob worked like a horse, and not only made things jump, but kept a sharp watch as well on the unguarded utterances of his mates. Once, at some remark of Mr.

Tod's, he flared up like a lion, and stepping close to Mr. Tod, with his fist clenched, said, "Drop that, Toddy--d'ye 'ear--drop it!" and stared at him so fierce and splendid, that Mr. Tod fell back and mumbled something about "No offense," and "It kinder ripped out unbeknownst, Bob, old c.o.c.k!"

By the time it was all finished dusk was falling. The room had been beautifully swept out, and likewise the porch, and Mr. Bell was in the act of dancing a fascinating clog to Papa Benson's "Soldier's Joy" on the concertina, when Nantok rushed in, shouting that Mr. Kirke was coming. And, indeed, she had no sooner given the news than it was confirmed by the whaler's crew, whose voices could be heard far across the water, l.u.s.tily singing at their paddles.

A sort of consternation descended on the Band of Hope. "h.e.l.l!" exclaimed Mr. Dutton, and dropped his broom with a crash. There was a mad scurry to escape. The little president was forgotten in the pellmell rush, and from the height of her table she perceived her friends flying away without a word of farewell. No, not all. The faithful Mr. Bob, quiet and masterful even in that panicky moment of the missionary's return, came up to her, and taking her hand in both his own, nuzzled it long and lovingly against his cheek.

"Little Daisy," he said, and his voice sounded kind of strange and different, "I want you to give a message to your pa--a message from me, you say to 'im--and that is, 'e'll never 'ave no more trouble with the boys down the sh.o.r.e. And if any of them gets fresh, or gives 'im any lip, or 'oots--you tell 'im this, Daisy--I'll break every bone of 'is body, so 'elp me, Moses. And it _h_ain't because of 'im, or anythink the like of that, but because he's the father of the darlingest little gal that _h_ever breathed, and the sweetest and the dearest."

Daisy flung her arms around his neck and kissed him; and as her face pressed his, rough as mahogany and hairy as a mat, she felt it all wet with tears.