s of the little river and began to clamber over a
terrific jumble of rocks. A salmon was caught so quickly that Father grew
boyish with enthusiasm and capered over more rocks.

And then came the accident, Aunt Jennie, and I am still shaky, and
tearful, and though I try to write like a normal human being I am
desirous of shrieking. There was just a slip and a fall, and a foot
caught between two boulders. Poor Daddy was dragged from the swift water
into which he had been wading and placed in the bottom of the dory, a
most damp and smelly ambulance.

Of course I dashed down to the shore as soon as people came to tell me
what had happened, and naturally I got into everybody's way. It was
strange to see how these very rough-looking men took hold of poor Daddy.
They were just as gentle as could be, and made an arrangement of
fish-carrying barrows upon which they lifted him up and brought him to
the house.

I was weeping all this time and Daddy consoled me by telling me not to be
a fool. Susie, our new handmaiden, simply howled. We were bundled out,
chiefly by Daddy's language, and clamored for a doctor. It actually
transpired that there was one in the place, to my infinite relief. The
fact that he was gone to a little island away out at sea appeared to be
but an insignificant detail. An ancient mariner whom Coleridge must have
been acquainted with promised to go and bring him back. If the weather
did not turn out too badly he would return in three or four hours. He
informed me that it was beginning to look very nasty outside. It always
does, in such cases, I believe.

I spent the afternoon trying to do all I could for Daddy, and
occasionally climbed up on the cliff nearly adjoining our house, to watch
for the boat. An abominable fog began to come up, rolling before a
dreadful wind, and I moistened more handkerchiefs, since it was perfectly
evident to me that no small boat would ever return to land in such a
blow. Susie told me that I must not despair, and that people did really
manage to work fishing boats in such weather, sometimes. I considered her
to be a cheerful prevaricator, and told her she didn't know what she was
talking about. At this she curtsied humbly and assented with the "Yis,
ma'am" of the lowly, and all I could do was to keep on despairing.

It was really the most dismal afternoon I ever spent, and when it began
to get dark I gave up all hope. After I had become thoroughly saturated
with misery Susie cam