ost upset.
Paul felt very small and almost afraid, but not quite. His big, brave
daddy was there. "Sit still, hold tight," Daddy called. His voice
sounded far away, the storm was making such a noise.

It seemed hours and hours that Paul sat still and held tight. He grew
cold and stiff and wet. The sky became blacker and blacker. The wind
howled louder and louder. Sometimes Daddy shouted, hoping that some one
in a bigger boat would hear and come to help him. But no help came.

All at once a clear, bright light shone over the water. "The
lighthouse!" cried Mr. Ray, "The lighthouse! We are saved."

He turned the boat and steered toward the light. It shone into the
darkness like a kind eye.

Fighting the wind and storm was hard work, but at last the boat reached
the island on which the lighthouse stood. As the boat came to the shore
Mr. Ray called and called. At last the door of the lighthouse opened and
the keeper came out. He helped pull the boat to shore. Then he lifted
Paul out and carried him into the lighthouse and Mr. Ray followed.

At first Paul was too wet and cold and too much frightened to care about
anything. But when he had been warmed and his clothes dried he began to
look around. He was in a cheerful room with the lighthouse keeper and
his wife. His dear daddy was there, too. And there was another person in
the room. This was a little boy with a very pale face. He sat in a
wheeled chair. His poor back was so weak he could not walk. But his face
was bright and smiling. He held out his hand to Paul. "I'm Dick," he
said, "I came to the lighthouse in a storm too, and I've been here ever
since."

"Oh, please tell me about it," said Paul.

"It was eight years ago," began Dick, "when Father Moore found me in a
boat. There had been a shipwreck and I must have been in it. I don't
remember anything about it. I was only two years old and my back had
been hurt. But Father Moore saved me and he and Mother Moore took me to
be their little boy."

"Yes, he's our little boy," said the lighthouse keeper, who was "Father
Moore." "We live here together and keep the light."

"Don't you get lonely?" Paul asked Dick.

"Oh, no," said Dick, "I have a great many things to play with. See!" And
he pointed to a big table near his chair. On it were many small toys.
There was a farm with fences, houses, horses, cows, and chickens. There
were people too--a man, a woman, and two children. Everything was made
of clay. There was a