aughingly acknowledged him King of Pitcairn.

"No, dear, I'm not goin' to shoot," said Adams, in reply, "I'm only
going up to Christian's outlook to try if I can find somethin' there,
an' I always like to have the old blunderbuss with me. It feels sort of
company, you know, an' minds me of old times; but you'll not understand
what I mean, Sall."

"No, because I've no old times to mind about," said Sally, with a
peculiar smile. "May I go with you, father?"

"Of course you may. Come along, lass."

Adams held out his strong hand. Sally put her peculiarly small one into
it, and the two went slowly up the mountain-track together.

On reaching the top of a little knoll or plateau, they stopped, and
turned to look back. They could see over the tops of the palm-groves
from that place. The track by which they had ascended was visible here
and there, winding among the flowering shrubs and trees. The village
lay far below, like a gem in a setting of bright green, which contrasted
pleasantly with the warm clouds and the blue sea beyond. The sun was
bright and the air was calm--so calm that the voices of the children at
play came up to them distinctly in silvery ripples.

"How comes it, Sall, that you've deserted your post to-day?"

"Because the guard has been relieved; same as you say they do on board a
man-of-war. I left the sprawlers in charge of Bessy Mills, and the
staggerers are shut into the green. You see, I'm feeling a little tired
to-day, and thought I would like to have a quiet walk in the woods."

She finished this explanation with a little sigh.

"Dear, dear me!" exclaimed Adams, with a look of amused surprise,
"you're not becomin' sentimental are you, Sally?"

"What is sentimental, father!"

"Why, it's a--it's a sort of a feelin'--a sensation, you know, a kind of
all-overishness, that--d'ye see--"

He stopped short and stared with a perplexed air at the girl, who burst
into a merry laugh.

"That's one of your puzzlers, I think," she said, looking up slyly from
the corners of her eyes.

"Well, Sall, that _is_ a puzzler," returned Adams, with a
self-condemning shake of the head. "I never before felt so powerfully
the want o' dictionary knowledge. I'll be shot if I can tell you what
sentimental is, though I _know_ what it is as well as I know what
six-water grog or plum-duff is. We must ask Mr Young to explain it.
He's bin to school, you know, an' that's more than I have--more's the
pity."