ut the ship was wrecked," the lady went on, "and my daughter drowned;
and I have wandered over the world with my good Squire Trusty, mourning
on every shore with those who have lost friends by the sea. Some with
whom I have mourned grew to forget their sorrow, and would lament with
me no more. Others being sour and selfish, mocked me, saying, my grief
was nothing to them. But you have good manners, and I will remain with
you, however humble be your dwelling. My squire carries gold enough to
pay for all I need."

So the mourning lady and her good Squire Trusty went home with Dame
Civil, and she was no longer lonely in her sorrow, for when the dame
said:

"Oh! if my son were alive, I should never let him go to sea in a cobbled
skiff!" the lady answered:

"Oh! if my daughter were but living, I should never think it a disgrace
though she married a fisherman!"

The Christmas passed as it always does in the west country--shepherds
made merry on the downs, and fishermen on the shore. But when the
merrymakings and ringing of bells were over in all the land, the
sea-people woke up to their feasts and dances.

Like one who had forgotten all that was past, the merman again showed
Civil the room of gold and the room of jewels, advising him to choose
between his two daughters. But the fisherman still answered that the
ladies were too noble, and far too rich for him.

Yet as he looked at the glittering heap, Civil could not help
remembering the poor people of the west country, and the thought slipped
out, "How happy my old neighbours would be to find themselves here!"

"Say you so?" said the merman, who always wanted visitors.

"Yes," said Civil, "I have neighbours up yonder in the west country,
whom it would be hard to send home again if they got sight of half this
wealth." And the honest fisherman thought of Dame Sour and her son.

The merman was greatly pleased with these speeches--he thought there
was a chance of getting many land-people down, and by and by said to
Civil, "Suppose you took up a few jewels, and went up to tell your poor
neighbours how welcome we might make them?"

The hope of getting back to his country made Civil's heart glad, but he
had promised not to go without the lady, and therefore answered
prudently what was indeed true.

"Many thanks, my lord," he said, "for choosing such a humble man as I am
to carry your message. But the people of the west country never believe
anything without two witnesse