STAR BRIGHT


The Captain had sold all his lobsters. They had been particularly
fine ones, and had gone off "like hot cakes," everyone who passed
by the wharf stopping to buy one or two. Now the red dory was empty,
and the Captain had washed her out with his usual scrupulous care,
and was making preparations for his homeward voyage, when he was
hailed by a cheery voice from the street.

"Hillo, January!" said the voice. "Is that you? How goes it?" and
the owner of the voice, a sturdy man in a blue coat with brass
buttons, came down the wharf and greeted the Captain with a hearty
shake of the hand.

"How goes it?" he repeated. "I haven't seen ye for a dog's age."

"I'm hearty, Cap'n Nazro!" replied Captain January. "Hearty, that's
what I am, an' hopin' you're the same."

"That's right!" said the first speaker. "'Tain't often we set eyes
on you, you stick so close to your light. And the little gal, she's
well, I expect? She looks a picture, when I take a squint at her
through the glass sometimes. Never misses running out and shaking
her apron when we go by!"

"Cap'n Nazro," said January, speaking with emphasis, "if there is
a pictur in this world, o' health, and pootiness, and goodness, it's
that child. It's that little un, sir. Not to be beat in this country,
nor yet any other 'cordin' as I've voyaged."