igho! How the neat
stitches fairly flew into place, although to make the small patch fill
the big hole, there had to be a little pucker here and there. Never
mind, a pucker more or less wouldn't trouble happy-go-lucky Jane, who
believed little Glory to be the very cleverest child in the whole world
and a perfect marvel of neatness; for, in that particular, she had been
well trained. The old sea captain would allow no dirt anywhere, being as
well able to discover its presence by his touch as he had once been by
sight; and, oddly enough, he was as deft with his needle as with his
knife.

So, the jacket finished, Glory hurried away up the steep stairs to the
great bridge-end, received from the friendly flower-seller unstinted
praise and a ripe banana and felt her last anxiety vanish.

"A hull banana just for myself an' not for pay, dear, dear Jane? Oh, how
good you are! But you listen to me, 'cause I want to tell you somethin'.
Me an' grandpa ain't never goin' to that old 'Snug Harbor,' never,
nohow. We wouldn't be hired to. So there."

"Why--why, Take-a-Stitch! Why, be I hearin' or dreamin', I should like
to know. Not go there, when I thought you could scarce wait for the time
to come? What's up?"

"A shiny rich man from the avenue where such as him lives and what owns
the ship grandpa used to master, an' a lot more like it has so much to
do with the 'Harbor' 'at he can get anybody in it or out of it just as
he pleases. He's been twice to see grandpa an' made him all solemn an'
poor-feelin', like he ain't used to bein'. Why, he's even been cross,
truly cross, if you'll believe it!"

"Can't, hardly. Old cap'n's the jolliest soul ashore, I believe," said
Jane.

"An' if grandpa maybe goes alone, 'cause they don't take little girls,
nohow, then that colonel'd have me sent off to one o' them Homeses or
'Sylums for childern that hasn't got no real pas nor mas. Huh, needn't
tell me. I've seen 'em, time an' again, walkin' in processions, with
Sisters of Charity in wide white flappin' caps all the time scoldin'
them poor little girls for laughin' too loud or gettin' off the line or
somethin' like that. An' them with long-tailed frocks an' choky kind of
aperns an' big sunbonnets, lookin' right at my basket o' peanuts an'
never tastin' a single one. Oh, jest catch me! I'll be a newspaper boy,
first, but--but, Jane dear, do you s'pose anything--any single thing,
such as bein' terrible hungry, or not gettin' paid for frames or