ay, he lay still and asked her to sing to him. She had no
heart for the gay old sea-songs she used to sing for lullabies; so she
sung hymns in her soft, motherly voice, till the blue eyes closed and
the golden head lay still, looking so pretty, with the circle of bright
hair above the rosy face. 'My little saint,' Hetty called him; and
though she often wept sadly as she watched him, the bitterness of her
grief passed away, and a patient hope came to her; for the child's firm
faith impressed her deeply, the pious music of the sweet old hymns
comforted her sore heart, and daily labor kept her cheerful in spite of
herself. The neighbours wondered at the change that came over her, but
she could not explain it; and no one knew that the three good spirits
called Love, Labor, and Hope, were working their pleasant miracles.

Six long months went by, and no one ever thought of seeing Ben
again,--no one but his little son, who still watched for him here, and
his wife, who waited to meet him hereafter.

One bright spring day something happened. The house was as tidy as ever;
the wheel hummed briskly as Hetty sung softly to herself with a cheerful
face, though there were white hairs among the brown, and her eyes had a
thoughtful, absent look at times. Dandelion, more chubby and cheery than
ever, sat at her feet, with the sunshine making a golden glory of his
yellow hair, as he tried his new boat in the tub of water his mother
kept for her little sailor, or tugged away with his fat fingers at a big
needle which he was trying to pull through a bit of cloth intended for a
sail. The faithful little soul had not forgotten his father, but had
come to the conclusion that the reason his boats never prospered was
because they hadn't large enough sails; so he was intent on rigging a
new boat lately given him, with a sail that could not fail to waft Ben
safely home. With his mouth puckered up, his downy eyebrows knit, and
both hands pulling at the big needle, he was so wrapped in his work that
he did not mind the stopping of the wheel when Hetty fell into a
reverie, thinking of the happy time when she and Ben should meet again.
Sitting so, neither heard a step come softly over the sand; neither saw
an eager, brown face peer in at the door; and neither knew for a minute,
that Ben was watching them, with a love and longing in his heart that
made him tremble like a woman.

Dandelion saw him first; for, as he pulled the thread through with a
tr