inen bag that
chinked when shaken. It contained marbles. Small olive-green marbles
and middle-sized ones of various colours; glass marbles with splendid
coloured cores; and one large old grandfather marble too big to be
played with, but none the less to be worshipped--a god marble.

Of course one cannot play at marbles on board ship, but one can play
WITH them. They had been a great comfort to Dick on the voyage. He knew
them each personally, and he would roll them out on the mattress of his
bunk and review them nearly every day, whilst Emmeline looked on.

One day Mr Button, noticing Dick and the girl kneeling opposite each
other on a flat, hard piece of sand near the water's edge, strolled up
to see what they were doing. They were playing marbles. He stood with
his hands in his pockets and his pipe in his mouth watching and
criticising the game, pleased that the "childer" were amused. Then he
began to be amused himself, and in a few minutes more he was down on
his knees taking a hand; Emmeline, a poor player and an unenthusiastic
one, withdrawing in his favour.

After that it was a common thing to see them playing together, the old
sailor on his knees, one eye shut, and a marble against the nail of his
horny thumb taking aim; Dick and Emmeline on the watch to make sure he
was playing fair, their shrill voices echoing amidst the cocoa-nut
trees with cries of "Knuckle down, Paddy, knuckle down!" He entered
into all their amusements just as one of themselves. On high and rare
occasions Emmeline would open her precious box, spread its contents and
give a tea-party, Mr Button acting as guest or president as the case
might be.

"Is your tay to your likin', ma'am?" he would enquire; and Emmeline,
sipping at her tiny cup, would invariably make answer: "Another lump of
sugar, if you please, Mr Button"; to which would come the stereotyped
reply: "Take a dozen, and welcome; and another cup for the good of your
make."

Then Emmeline would wash the things in imaginary water, replace them in
the box, and every one would lose their company manners and become
quite natural again.

"Have you ever seen your name, Paddy?" asked Dick one morning.

"Seen me which?"

"Your name?"

"Arrah, don't be axin' me questions," replied the other. "How the divil
could I see me name?"

"Wait and I'll show you," replied Dick.

He ran and fetched a piece of cane, and a minute later on the
salt-white sand in face of orthography and the sun