mouth watching and criticising the game, pleased that the
"childer" were amused. Then he began to be amused himself, and in
a few minutes more he was down on his knees taking a hand;
Emmeline, a poor player and an unenthusiastic one, withdrawing
in his favour.

After that it was a common thing to see them playing together,
the old sailor on his knees, one eye shut, and a marble against the
nail of his horny thumb taking aim; Dick and Emmeline on the
watch to make sure he was playing fair, their shrill voices
echoing amidst the cocoa-nut trees with cries of "Knuckle down,
Paddy, knuckle down!" He entered into all their amusements just
as one of themselves. On high and rare occasions Emmeline would
open her precious box, spread its contents and give a tea-party,
Mr Button acting as guest or president as the case might be.

"Is your tay to your likin', ma'am?" he would enquire; and
Emmeline, sipping at her tiny cup, would invariably make answer:
"Another lump of sugar, if you please, Mr Button"; to which would
come the stereotyped reply: "Take a dozen, and welcome; and
another cup for the good of your make."

Then Emmeline would wash the things in imaginary water, replace
them in the box, and every one would lose their company manners
and become quite natural again.

"Have you ever seen your name, Paddy?" asked Dick one morning.

"Seen me which?"