lighthouse, which had already begun to grow like a tall-shafted tree on
its rock foundation at Easdaile Point. Suliscanna was not a large
island--in fact, only a mile across the top; but it was quite six or
eight in circumference when one followed the ins and outs of the rocky
shore. Tremendous cliffs rose to the south and west facing the Atlantic,
pierced with caves into which the surf thundered or grumbled, according
as the uneasy giant at the bottom of the sea was having a quiet night of
it or the contrary. Grassy and bare was the top of the island. There was
not a single tree upon it; and, besides the men's construction huts,
only a house or two, so white that each shone as far by day as the
lighthouse by night.

There was often enough little to do on Suliscanna. At such times, after
standing a long time with hands in their pockets, the inhabitants used
to have a happy inspiration: "Ha, let us go and whitewash the cottages!"
So this peculiarity gave the island an undeniably cheerful appearance,
and the passing ships justly envied the residents.

Simeon and Anna were playmates. That is, Anna played with Simeon when
she wanted him.

"Go and knit your sampler, girl!" Simeon was saying to-day. "What do
girls know about boats or birds?"

He was in a bad humour, for Anna had been unbearable in her exactions.

"Very well," replied Anna, tossing her hair; "I can get the key of the
boat and you can't. I shall take Donald out with me."

Now, Donald was the second lighthouse-keeper, detested of Simeon. He was