Hammer. April saw the early flowers
come,--and May saw Laura with both her babies on the beach, laughing at
them as they wet their feet,--digging holes in the sand for them,--and
sending the bigger boy to run and put salt upon the tails of the peeps
as they ran along the shore. And Tom Cutts, when his glass was clear to
his mind, and the reflectors polished to meet even his criticism, would
come down and hunt up Laura and the children. And when she had put the
babies to sleep, old Mipples, who was another of the descendants of the
"Fighting Twenty-seventh," would say, "Just you go out with the Major,
mum, and if they wake up and I can't still them, I'll blow the horn."
Not that he ever did blow the horn. All the more certain was Laura that
she could tramp over the whole island with Tom Cutts, or she could sit
and knit or sew, and Tom could read to her, and these days were the
happiest days of her married life, and brought back the old sunny days
of the times before Fort Sumter again. Ah me! if such days of summer and
such days of autumn would last forever!

But they will not last forever. November came, and the little colony
went into winter quarters. December came. And we were all double-banked
with sea-weed. The stoves were set up in-doors. The double doors were
put on outside, and we were all ready for the "Osprey." The "Osprey" was
the Government steamer which was to bring us our supplies for the
winter, chiefly of colza oil,--and perhaps some coal. But the "Osprey"
does not appear. December is half gone, and no "Osprey." We can put the
stoves on short allowance, but not our two lanterns. They will only run
to the 31st of January, the nights are so long, if the "Osprey" does not
come before then.

That is our condition, when old Mipples, bringing back the mail, brings
a letter from Boston to say that the "Osprey" has broken her
main-shaft, and may not be repaired before the 15th of January,--that
Mr. Cutts, will therefore, if he needs oil, take an early opportunity to
supply himself from the light at Squire's,--and that an order on the
keeper at Squire's is enclosed.

To bring a cask of oil from Squire's is no difficult task to a Tripp's
Cove man. It would be no easy one, dear reader, to you and me. Squire's
is on the mainland,--our nearest neighbor at the Bell and Hammer,--it
revolves once a minute, and we watch it every night in the horizon. Tom
waited day by day for a fine day,--would not have gone for his oil