ed
with her prim Dutch dolls there in her childhood, and she could
remember spending hour after hour watching for her father's ship when
the family had begun to expect him home at the end of a long voyage.
She remembered with a smile how grieved she had been because once he
came into port late in the night and surprised them all early in the
morning, but he had made amends by taking her back with him when he
hurried on board again after a hasty greeting. Miss Prince lived that
morning over again as she stood there, old and gray and alone in the
world. She could see again the great weather-beaten and tar-darkened
ship, and even the wizened monkey which belonged to one of the
sailors. She lingered at her father's side admiringly, and felt the
tears come into her eyes once more when he gave her a taste of the
fiery contents of his tumbler. They were all in his cabin; old Captain
Dunn and Captain Denny and Captain Peterbeck were sitting round the
little table, also provided with tumblers, as they listened eagerly to
the story of the voyage. The sailors came now and then for orders;
Nancy thought her handsome father, with his bronzed cheeks and white
forehead and curly hair, was every inch a king. He was her hero, and
nothing could please her so much to the end of her days as to have
somebody announce, whether from actual knowledge or hearsay, that
Captain Jack Prince was the best shipmaster that ever sailed out of
Dunport.... She always was sure there were some presents stored away
for herself and young Jack, her brother, in one of the lockers of the
little cabin. Poor Jack! how he used to frighten her by climbing the
shrouds and waving his cap from almost inaccessible heights. Poor
Jack! and Miss Prince climbed the step to look down the harbor again,
as if the ship were more than thirty days out from Amsterdam, and
might be expected at any time if the voyage had been favorable.

The house was at no great distance from the water side, though the
crowded buildings obscured the view from the lower stories. There was
nothing coming in from sea but a steam-tug, which did not harmonize
with these pleasant reminiscences, though as Miss Prince raised the
window a fine salt breeze entered, well warmed with the May sunshine.
It had the flavor of tar and the spirit of the high seas, and for a
wonder there could be heard the knocking of shipwrights' hammers,
which in old times were never silent in the town. As she sat there for
a few