known, had not the sea claimed her husband for its own.

After this happy day came a few that were anxious enough to poor Sara;
for the little hoard was getting fearfully low, and now, too, the
provisions were nearly gone.

"I'm afraid, Morton," she said one morning, "if we don't hear something
from father this week, I'll have to borrow of Squire Scrantoun."

Molly's nose went up.

"I don't like him; he's a scowly man! Let's borrow of Uncle Adam or Miss
Prue."

"But old Adam Standish is nearly as poor as we, Molly."

"No, he ain't," with a toss of her head; "he's got a heap of money! He
keeps it in an old shot-bag, and I've seen it myself; he's got--well, as
much as five dollars, I do believe!"

As this magnificent sum did not impress Sara so much as it should, the
child concluded to drop finances for a while and attend to baby, who was
busily engaged just then in pulling straws out of the broom, a loss the
well-used article could ill afford.

Sara stepped past the two at their frolic and looked out of the open
door.

It was a glorious morning, the air washed clean by a thunder-storm
during the night, and the sea still white-capped from its violence.