hine, amusing himself by cutting a bit of stick. In spring he saw
three strawberry bushes in bloom: they would surely bear fruit. This
was his pleasantest thought; but there was no fruit. He sat out in the
drizzling rain, and in the heavy rain--was wet to the skin--and the
sharp wind dried his clothes upon him. If he went to the farm-houses
near, he was thumped and shoved about. He was "grim-looking and ugly,"
the girls and the boys said. What became of Anne Lisbeth's boy? What
_could_ become of him? It was his fate to be "_never loved_."

At length he was transferred from his joyless village life to the
still worse life of a sailor boy. He went on board a wretched little
vessel, to stand by the rudder while the skipper drank. Filthy and
disgusting the poor boy looked; starving and benumbed with cold he
was. One would have thought, from his appearance, that he never had
been well fed; and, indeed, that was the fact.

It was late in the year; it was raw, wet, stormy weather; the cold
wind penetrated even through thick clothing, especially at sea; and
only two men on board were too few to work the sails; indeed, it might
be said only one man and a half--the master and his boy. It had been
black and gloomy all day; now it became still more dark, and it was
bitterly cold. The skipper took a dram to warm himself. The flask was
old, and so was the glass; its foot was broken off, but it was
inserted into a piece of wood painted blue, which served as a stand
for it. If one dram was good, two would be better, thought the master.
The boy stood by the helm, and held on to it with his hard,
tar-covered hands. He looked frightened. His hair was rough, and he
was wrinkled, and stunted in his growth. The young sailor was the
grave-digger's boy; in the church register he was called Anne
Lisbeth's son.

The wind blew as it list; the sail flapped, then filled; the vessel
flew on. It was wet, chill, dark as pitch; but worse was yet to come.
Hark! What was that? With what had the boat come in contact? What had
burst? What seemed to have caught it? It shifted round. Was it a
sudden squall? The boy at the helm cried aloud, "In the name of
Jesus!" The little bark had struck on a large sunken rock, and sank as
an old shoe would sink in a small pool--sank with men and mice on
board, as the saying is; and there certainly were mice, but only one
man and a half--the skipper and the grave-digger's boy. None witnessed
the catastrophe except the s