how brave Tiny had been, and how Dame Peters
thought she was growing very fast. Then Tiny had to sing one verse of
"Star of Peace," after she had finished her supper--Mrs. Coomber would
not let her sing more than that, for she was looking very sleepy and
tired--and then they all went to bed, with a strange, new feeling of
peace and content, Mrs. Coomber vaguely wondering what had become of the
whisky bottle, and wishing every night could be like this.

As soon as her eyes were open the next morning Tiny thought of her
treasure, and crept into the boys' room to tell Dick the wonderful news.
But to her surprise she found the bed was empty; and, peeping into the
kitchen, saw Mrs. Coomber washing up the breakfast things.

"Oh, mammy, what is the time?" she exclaimed, but yawning as she spoke.

"Oh, you're awake at last. Make haste and put your clothes on, and come
and have your breakfast," said Mrs. Coomber.

"Where's Dick?" asked Tiny.

"He's helping daddy and Bob with the net; and you can go, too, when
you've had your breakfast. Daddy wouldn't let the boys come and wake you
'cos you was so tired last night."

"What are they doing to the net?" asked Tiny, as she came to the table.

"Mending it, of course. Daddy's going shrimping to-day."

"What a bother that net is," said Tiny. "Daddy's always mending it."

"Yes, so he is, deary. It's old, you see, and we can't afford to get a
new one."

"I've got to get a lot of samphire to-day, and I promised Dick I'd make
some more letters for him in the sand," said Tiny, meditatively.

"But daddy wants you to help him with the net," suggested Mrs. Coomber.
The little girl had always been so pliant, so amenable to control, that
Mrs. Coomber was surprised to hear her say passionately--

"I won't do that nasty net. I must pick the samphire for Dame Peters,
and show Dick my picture, first;" and then she snatched up a basket, and
ran out, not to the sands, where the fisherman and his boys sat mending
the torn net, but away to the salt-marsh, where the seaweed grew
thickest, and she could fill her basket most quickly. In an hour or two
she came home, looking tired and cross.

"Ain't Dick come home yet?" she asked, throwing herself on the floor.

"They ain't done the net yet. Tom came to fetch you a little while ago."

"I don't want Tom, I want Dick. We're going to make some letters, and
learn to read," said Tiny.

"You'd better leave the reading alone, if it makes you so cr