The Captain paused, and puffed gravely at his pipe for a few minutes.
“Well, Rosebud,” he continued, presently, “you know what comes next. The _Bonito_ was cast away, in a cyclone, on a desert island, and all hands lost, except me and one other.”
“Dear Daddy! poor Daddy!” cried the child, putting her little hands up to the weather-beaten face, and drawing it down to hers. “Don't talk about that dreadful part. Go on to the next!”
“No, I won't talk about it, Star Bright!” said the old man, very gravely. “Fust place I can't, and second place it ain't fit for little maids to hear of. But I lived on that island fifteen year,--five year with my good mate Job Hotham, and ten year alone, after Job died. When a ship kem by, after that, and took me off, I'd forgot most everything, and was partly like the beasts that perish; but it kem back to me. Slow, like, and by fits, as you may say; but it kem back, all there was before, and maybe a good bit more!”
“Poor Daddy!” murmured the child again, pressing her soft cheek against the white beard. “It's all over now! Don't think of it! I am here, Daddy, loving you: loving you _all to pieces_, you know!”
The old man was silent for a few minutes, caressing the little white hands which lay like twin snowflakes in his broad, brown palm. Then he resumed, cheerfully:
“And so, Cream Cheese from the dairy of Heaven, I kem home. Your old Daddy kem home, and landed on the same wharf he'd sailed from twenty-five years before. Not direct, you understand, but takin' steamer from New York, and so on. Wal, there wa'n't nobody that knew me, or cared for me. Father was dead, and his wife; and their children, as weren't born when I sailed from home, were growed up and gone away. No, there wa'n't nobody. Wal, I tried for a spell to settle down and live like other folks, but 'twa'n't no use. I was'nt used to the life, and I couldn't stand it. For ten years I haven't heard the sound of a human voice, and now they was buzz, buzzin' all the time; it seemed as if there was a swarm of wasps round my ears the everlastin' day. Buzz! buzz! and then clack! clack! like an everlasting mill-clapper; and folks starin' at my brown face and white hair, and askin' me foolish questions. I couldn't stand it, that was all. I heard that a light-keeper was wanted here, and I asked for the place, and got it. And that's all of the first part, Peach Blossom.”