ster, the size of the
shrimps, the wild taste of the omelet; but the rose touched her the
most tenderly, and Jenny clapped her hands as she said,--

"I was very sure that you would love my poor little flower, which
William despised because it was not good to eat."

"He is a little gourmand," said Grace, laughing, "whom I condemn for
his punishment to eat my part of the cake."

"To the health of Grace," said the father. "We have just opened for
her one of the bottles of old Bourdeaux, which the brave French
captain gave us, who came near perishing down below at the end of
the great reef of rocks, sixteen years ago."

"And whom you saved at the risk of your life," added his wife.

"I remember it all," said Grace, with a very serious look; "I was
very small, yet I well remember that terrible night. I hear now the
howling of the waves as they broke against the rocks, and made the
lighthouse tremble."

"It was just such a night as this," said the father; "a Friday, the
sixth of September. The sun set, just as it set to-night, in a cloud
red as blood, which is never a sign of any thing good."

"It is a sign of a great wind," said James; "so much the better; the
wild birds will come to the island for shelter."

"A great storm," said John, "always brings fish into my trap;
besides, I love the storm."

"Let us play hit-hand," said Jenny. "Come, James, you begin; put
your head in my lap, and hold your hand out. There! tell me who
struck."

"That is not difficult; it was you."

"O! you looked!"

"No. Now it is your turn."

After this game came blind man's buff. The eldest sister gave
herself up to all their wishes. She let them bandage her eyes, and
sought fearfully the little fugitives; but notwithstanding her
efforts, and the efforts of all to be amused, a cloud hung over the
little assembly. Without, a thick fog enveloped the island, and
veiled the friendly light.

"If I am not greatly deceived, this will be a very bad night," said
the father. "There is, fortunately, no vessel in sight, if it is
not, perhaps, the Hull packet, which will have had time, I think, to
reach the Bay of Berwick, and which will have the discretion, I
trust, to remain there; for the heavens speak in a loud voice this
evening; the wind comes from below, and the waves run before it like
a flock of frightened sheep."

"I should like to see a flock of sheep," said the little girl of
five, whom Grace held in her lap, and whom she was get