have that my father made."

"But if I make another doll, a fine wooden doll, as near like yours as I
can, would you like to give that to Amanda?" asked Uncle Enos.

"Oh, yes! Yes, indeed," said Anne, the smiles all coming back again.

"Then 'Tis a secret till I have the doll finished," said Captain Enos;
"then maybe you can make a dress for it, and give it to Amanda, just as
she gave you her white kitten."

Anne was very happy over this secret; it seemed even better than the new
wooden chair for Martha Stoddard Nelson.

"I never gave anybody a present," she said, "but I know it must be the
finest thing in the world to give somebody a gift," and she looked up into
Uncle Enos's kindly face questioningly.

"You are a good child, Anne," he said, "and I will make the wooden doll as
soon as time offers. Now take thy beads and box and Martha Stoddard Nelson
to thy room, and I will bring in some wood for Aunt Martha. Then 'twill be
time for a bite of supper."

Anne carried her treasures up-stairs to the little room. There was a stand
in the room now, one that had belonged to her father. It had two drawers,
and in one of them Anne carefully put the sandalwood box with the pink
coral beads.

"I guess I have more lovely things than any little girl," she said to
herself, as she slowly closed the drawer. "There's my doll, and my white
kitten, and my scarlet stockings, which I shall have finished to-morrow,
and my leather shoes, and these coral beads and the box!" But Anne gave a
little sigh and then whispered, "And if my dear father could only know all
about them, and that I am to give a doll to Amanda." She looked out of the
small window toward the beautiful harbor, and wished that she might go
sailing over it to Boston, to find her father and bring him safe to
Province Town. "I wish King George knew how much trouble he was making
with his old war-ships," Anne whispered to the wooden doll.

CHAPTER XII

AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY

"I have a fine dish of ink all ready," said Captain Enos the next morning,
"but 'Tis too clear a morning to sit in the house and write letters. There
are good cod coming into the harbor, and I must row out and catch what I
can while the weather is good."

"Can we not write the letter to-night?" asked Anne. "Aunt Martha has some
fine pitch knots to burn that will make the kitchen light as day."

"We'll see, come night," replied Captain Enos.

The two were walking down the sandy path tog