crying bravely: "Hi, old Mister Dolly! I'se goin' a-put your great eye
out!" But when the eye half-looked at her, off she would scud, and all I
could see was a mass of flying yellow hair, a whisking of snowy skirts,
and my little nymph was gone.

[Illustration: "ONE CUTE LITTLE NYMPH OF A GIRL WAS CRAZY TO GET NEAR
ME"]

A dozen times a day she would appear, and as long as I remained under
water, she would hover near. There was a railing around the tank, which
was sunk in, lower than the deck, so she could not fall in, nor could I
possibly get out, but as soon as my head began rearing above the water,
scoot! little Amy was missing.

We had no hard storm while steaming over the bright Mediterranean. But
one day the little man, whose name was Roland, said to wee Amy:

"Clear day, isn't it?"

And Amy replied, woman-fashion, "Yes, booful day, but what sood you do
if there comed a big storm, and we all went ricketty, rockerty, and
couldn't stand up single minute? Wouldn't you be 'fraid?"

"N-o," said Roland, speaking slowly and thoughtfully, "I don't think I
should be much afraid, but I should want to keep quiet and think. What
should you do?" and he smiled.

"Oh, me would say my prayers, and keep a-sayin' them," said the child,
soberly, then she added, "and up would go my prayers into the sky, and
so I needn't be frightened a bit."