se of
her color, and partly because the field in which she grazed before she
came to them was full of goldenrod, which the cow was supposed to eat,
though I dare say she didn't. She gave a good deal of milk, not of the
richest quality, for her diet was rather spare, but it was a great
help and comfort to have it. With milk, potatoes, cabbages, and beets
from their own garden; flour, Indian meal, and a barrel of salt beef
in store, there was no danger of starvation on Causey Island, though
Eyebright at times grew very tired of ringing the changes on these few
articles of diet, and trying to invent new dishes with which to tempt
papa's appetite, which had grown very poor since the winter set in.

Altogether, life on the island was a good deal harder and less
pleasant now than it had been in summer-time, and the sea was a great
deal less pleasant. Eyebright loved it still; but her love was mingled
with fear, and she began to realize what a terrible thing the ocean
can be. The great gray waves which leaped and roared and flung
themselves madly on the rocks, were so different from the blue,
rippling waves of the summer, that she could hardly believe it the
same sea. And even when pleasant days came, and the waves grew calm,
and the beautiful color returned to the water, still the other and
frightful look of the ocean remained in her memory, and her bad dreams
were always about storms and shipwrecks. Many more boats passed
between Malachi and Scrapplehead in winter than in summer. Now that
the inland roads were blocked with snow, and the Boston steamer had
ceased to run, the mails came that way, being brought over every week
in a sail-boat. Even row-boats passed to and fro in calm weather, and
what with lumber vessels and fishing smacks, and an occasional
traveller from out-of-the-way Canada, sails at sea, or the sound of
clinking oars off the bathing-beach, became of frequent occurrence.
These little boats out in the great fierce ocean weighed heavily on
Eyebright's mind sometimes. Especially was this the case when heavy
fogs wrapped the coast, as occasionally they did for days together,
making all landmarks dangerously dim and indistinct. At such times it
seemed as if Causey Island were a big rocky lump which had got in the
way, and against which ships were almost certain to run. She wished
very much for a light-house, and she coaxed papa to let her keep a
kerosene lamp burning in the window of her bedroom on all foggy and