The Little Old Man of the Island


A few steps brought them to the shed, which was merely
a roof of boughs built over a square space, with some
branches of trees fastened to the sides to keep off the
wind. The front was quite open and faced the sea, and as
our friends came nearer they observed a little man, with
a long pointed beard, sitting motionless on a stool and
staring thoughtfully out over the water.

"Get out of the way, please," he called in a fretful
voice. "Can't you see you are obstructing my view?"

"Good morning," said Cap'n Bill, politely.

"It isn't a good morning!" snapped the little man.
"I've seen plenty of mornings better than this. Do
you call it a good morning when I'm pestered with
such a crowd as you?"

Trot was astonished to hear such words from a
stranger whom they had greeted quite properly, and
Cap'n Bill grew red at the little man's rudeness. But
the sailor said, in a quiet tone of voice:

"Are you the only one as lives on this 'ere island?"

"Your grammar's bad," was the reply. "But this is my