T was a June afternoon, long and gentle; the sun did not scorch as it does in August, and the wind was from the South, just strong enough to stir the trees a little, and to carry the fragrance of the flowers through the air.

It was such an afternoon as old people like to spend listlessly watching the bees and the butterflies, and thinking of old times; nor are they the only people who like June afternoons; their children and their grandchildren in different fashion, make the most of these long hours and never think them too long.

Old Benjy Robin was humming a psalm-tune as he sat in his chair upon the front stoop of his son's house, where he always lived; he had moved away a little from the open passage which led to the back of the house, to avoid the draught of wind that passed gently through. It was a very pleasant wind to younger folk, but Old Benjy was turned of eighty, and not so warm in his blood as to like such cool currents. His cane stood between his knees, over which was spread a large red silk handkerchief, and his hands were folded before him; while his two thumbs slowly turned round each other, sometimes one way, sometimes the other. Before him he could see down the garden walk, with its trim rows of shrubbery, and beyond farther on, the very lovely hills that closed in the lake of Clearwater, the shore of which was but a little way off.

John Robin, his son, who owned the house and farm, owned also part of the lake, and there was a path, leading from the other side of the road in front of the house, down to the shore where the horses were taken to water and where the farmer kept his boats. It was a beautiful view from the stoop, especially when as now the white clouds were floating over the tops of the hills.

It was so quiet and the air was so mild that old Benjy soon began to feel sleepy; he took the red bandanna from his knees and threw it over his head to keep the flies away from his face, and then settled himself to sleep, while his thumbs continued to go slowly round and round as if they were trying in vain to overtake one another. Old Juniper too, the great Newfoundland dog that lay at his feet, gave up trying to catch the flies that plagued him, and stretching himself out as much as he could, drew in his tongue over his red gums, and also fell sound asleep breathing very hard.

The only persons in the house this June afternoon were the old man, Juniper the dog, and Yulee, and Bo, Robin, Benjy's grandchildren. Their father and mother had gone out for the afternoon and would not be back until after tea; the boys were at work at the other end of the farm, and so the children had been left in care of their grandfather and the servant-maids. But Benjy had gone to sleep, and the servants had taken the time to pay a visit to the next farmhouse. The children however did not notice this; they were sitting on the door-step at the back of the house, at the opposite end of the passage to where their grandfather was. They enjoyed the wind that was blowing through so pleasantly, and Yulee was reading aloud from a book to her brother Bo. Yulee was eight years old; her real name was Julia, but no one but the school mistress ever called her so. Bo, short for Robert, was two years younger and wanted to do everything that Yulee did. Wherever Yulee was, there you would be sure to find Bo. He followed her about as faithfully as a chicken does her mother, and Yulee treated him very much as a hen does its only chicken.

The book they were reading was called "The Castaways," and Bo was listening to Yulee with the greatest attention. At last, just as the great clock in the hall struck three, Yulee finished; she had skipped some of the parts, especially the hard names and Miss Keenmark's science, but she had read the book through and Bo had heard most of it.

"Bo!" said she, as she shut the book, "I'd like to be a castaway, wouldn't you? It would be so fine to live on the top of a rock and have to go up a rope ladder, and keep goats, and save the lives of Africans, and sleep in an ox-cart!"

"Oh, but the lions!" said Bo, "and the—and the—what are those big things that live in the water, and most swallowed the canoe?—you know."

"I know what you mean," said Yulee. "The hippopotamuses. I said the word all the way going to school yesterday, so as to remember it."

"I shouldn't like them," said Bo.

"Oh, but one of the men would fire right into his mouth, just as Albert did. I'll find the place;" and turning over the leaves of the book, she came to the story, and read:—"But they had not been long seated when a tremendous shock was felt; the light canoe was thrown above the water, and capsized in a moment; and Albert, who was standing at the stern of the raft, watching the boat, saw, to his great horror, the huge head of a hippopotamus raised above the water, preparing to seize the canoe with its red open mouth. Calling for aid, he seized his gun and fired in the face of the ferocious beast, which with terrific roars, dived down and disappeared."

"But who'd you have to shoot the—pippi—what is it?" asked Bo.

"The hippopotamus," said Yulee, who liked to pronounce the word; "why, of course, there must be some men wrecked with me: there's the captain, and the doctor, and carpenter, and the passengers—"

"A'n't girls ever wrecked alone?" asked Bo; Yulee thought a minute; she tried to recollect the different stories she had read about people who were cast away. "No;" she said finally, "there is always the captain, and the doctor, and the carpenter, and some of the passengers at least; and the carpenter finds his chest."

Bo had nothing to say against such a mode of shipwrecking, and Yulee continued: "But I think I'd rather be cast away on an island like Robinson Crusoe or The Little Robinson, where there was water all around, and canoes and pearls, just as it is in 'The Swiss Family.'" "Bo!" she said suddenly, "I do declare! let's be cast away on the island in the lake! We can get into the boat, you know, and be wrecked on the shore, and you can take your bow and arrows, and I'll take my tea-set and my range, and we'll build a little house, and perhaps there are some goats on the island! Wouldn't it be grand!"

Bo opened his brown eyes wide at the idea. "Well let's do it!" said he; it was enough for him that Yulee had proposed it; "I'll go right off and get my bow and arrows."

"And I'll get my tea-set and the range, and I'll take Miss Phely," said Yulee. They jumped up from the flat door-step, and ran into the house, and up stairs to the play-room. There they began collecting what they thought they should need, and Yulee very soon pounced on Miss Phely who was in the corner of the room, sitting very stiffly upon a small willow rocking chair. Miss Phely's face originally was black, but rather streaked with a doubtful colour now, as it had been washed somewhat vigorously at different times; her eyes were blue and very wide open, and her dress, which wanted a pin behind, was of spotted pink calico. Her arms she held rather stiffly away from her clothes, and her fingers were stretched as far apart as they well could be. Yulee was in a hurry, and took her up unceremoniously by the waist, but Miss Phely did not seem at all disturbed, and did not even wink or shut her fingers together.

They hurried down stairs and out by the front door, passing on tip-toe by their grandfather, Old Benjy Robin, who slept soundly in his chair, with his cane between his knees and the bandanna thrown over his head to keep away the flies. Even Juniper, the dog, never woke up, though Yulee was strongly tempted to add him to the party of castaways. They passed through the garden gate, and crossing the road walked through the pasture, down the path that led to the shore of Clearwater. There, tied to a stake, was their father's flat-bottomed boat, with keel-boats near by. Yulee chose the flat-bottomed boat, and they proceeded to put on board their various stores.

First, and head foremost, Miss Phely was deposited upon one of the seats; if her head had been less hard it must have disliked the wooden pillow that it was knocked down upon. After her came the box of cups and saucers, tea-pot, sugar-bowl and creamer; then some of Miss Phely's clothes, in case a change were desirable; a little Shaker basket, never before used, which Yulee said was for berries; the bow and arrows; a pail for the goats' milk; a tin pump with a trough attached to it; little Bo carrying a pop-gun which was too valuable to be suffered out of his hands; and lastly, Yulee holding in one hand "The Castaways," to refer to in case of need, and in the other the most precious thing of all to her—a little complete leaden range with places for every thing, which had been given her for a present on her last birth-day, and in which it had ever since been her secret but firm determination to build a real fire. The range was altogether too valuable to be laid on the seat like Miss Phely, so Yulee kept it in her hands; and she had not forgotten either—prudent Yulee! to bring some matches wrapped up in a piece of newspaper, and which she kept her eyes on constantly, as they lay in the range, expecting every moment to see them start a-fire; indeed, they kept her very uneasy. However, everything was now aboard.

"Here, Bo," said she, "you sit down there, side of Miss Phely, and don't let her tumble overboard, and I'll go and untie the rope." Bo began to be a little frightened, but he had faith in Yulee, and Yulee had great faith in herself. When she had untied the end of the rope that was in the boat—and very hard work she found it—she said:

"Now we're off, Bo! are you all ready?"

"Yes," said Bo.

"No; you must say, 'aye aye, sir!'" said Yulee.

"But you a'n't sir," said Bo.

"Yes I am," said Yulee, "I'm the Captain;" and she took her seat in the middle of the boat, where she said the Captain always sat. "This ship is the Little Madras, Bo," said she. "Where's 'The Castaways'? I'll read about it." So she read how all the party, after their first shipwreck in the Madras, had embarked again in the ship's long boat, which the Captain called the Little Madras.

"Are there any of those big animals here? you know that long name," asked Bo.

"Hippopotamuses?" said Yulee, promptly, delighted at the opportunity of using the word. "Oh, no! there are no hippopotamuses in Clearwater; the hippopotamuses only live in Africa."

"You never saw one, did you?" said Bo, who didn't like to use the word.

"No," said Yulee. "I never saw a hippopotamus, but I've seen an elephant in the menagerie and I guess it's something like it. There's a picture of one in the Castaways," and she showed it to Bo.

While they were talking, the wind and the current had been gently drifting the boat away from the shore; they were quite a distance from the stake now, and really going toward the island, which lay in the lake not very far off. They had never been there for their father said there was nothing to see on it; but Yulee was very certain in her own mind that there was something on the island very wonderful. She had made up a great many stories about it, which she had told over to herself so often that she believed them as much as if some one else had told them to her. She was sure that there were goats there at any rate and possibly a parrot; and she was ready to believe in a cave, and perhaps even a small mountain with a rope ladder up to the top like the one in "the Castaways," though she rather thought she would have seen that if there had been one, from the shore. The island could not be seen from the house, nor from the boat-landing; it was round a curve in the lake.

The boat followed the current which led it slowly toward the island, and Yulee was in ecstacies as they neared the shore. She sat in the bows of the boat looking eagerly toward the island and trying to make out a good place for a cave. But the land looked rather unpromising; it was low, rising but little above the water, and covered with grass, a few low bushes and one clump of trees. The boat did not seem able to get much nearer the island, after it was within a few yards of it, and even appeared to be drifting away. Yulee noticed this and began to be alarmed lest they should not be cast away after all.

"Why don't we get wrecked?" asked Bo at this juncture, leaning over the boat side and looking into the water which was hardly a foot deep here.

"There ought to be a great wind," explained Yulee, "and a storm, and the ship ought to go to pieces, and then we should be thrown on shore, and in the morning we should go out to the wreck and get the carpenter's chest and all sorts of things; at least that's the way it usually happens, but we're in a boat you see, and that makes a difference. I think, Bo," she added, "you'd better take off your shoes and stockings, and get out and pull the boat ashore, or we never shall get there."

So Bo rolled up his trousers, and with some difficulty got over the side of the boat into the water. The boat moved easily, and Bo in great glee pulled it to the island, to a place where there was a little beach, till the bottom of the boat grated on the gravel.

"Here we are!" said Yulee. "Now, Bo, we must get the things ashore before the Little Madras goes to pieces." Bo stood on the beach by the boat while Yulee handed to him the various stores and provisions, not forgetting Miss Phely, who was still as wide awake as ever, staring before her without winking and keeping her fingers stiffly apart in the same uncomfortable fashion. Bo took her by the arm and tossed her upon the ground in a very unfeeling manner. Last of all came Yulee, holding fast her precious range and dividing her attention between the dangerous matches and the disembarking from the boat.

"Now, is the Little Madras going to pieces?" asked Bo.

"It ought to," said Yulee, "or else it will drift away in the night time. We'll tie it here, though, because you know we may want to sail round our island, and I don't see any log of wood here to make a boat out of as Robinson Crusoe did. Where's the rope, Bo?" she said, as she looked round in vain for it in order to tie the boat to the shore.

"You untied it," said he.

"So I did," said she, "but I must have untied the wrong end. Well, I guess the boat will stay here." Secretly Yulee hoped the boat wouldn't stay; it would be so much more like a real wreck.

"Now, the first thing we must do," said Yulee, "is to explore our island and see if there are any savages on it. You give me the bow and arrows and take your gun, and if you see a savage you mustn't fire at him, but must wait a moment to see if he won't come and kneel down and be your slave."

Bo was frightened at this; he wasn't prepared for savages. "Do you really think, Yulee," said he, "that there are savages here?"

"I don't know," said she, "I've never been here before, but it's best to be prepared. Don't you be afraid, Bobo," she added encouragingly; "you know we can take to the boat if they chase us, and they'll fire darts, but the darts will fall into the water all around us, and won't hit us at all."

"Do you think it's safe, Yulee, to leave the things so on the beach?" asked Bo, as they started off on their tour of discovery.

"Oh, yes," said she, "nobody will touch them, they never do; besides, I've got the range with me." To be sure, she had the range in one hand, but she had left the matches upon the beach as causing too much anxiety. Thus they set off. Yulee with the range and the bow and arrows, and Bo with his pop-gun. It did not take long to explore the island; it was only about an acre in all, and irregular in shape. They came to the clump of trees but did not dare go in, though Yulee was pretty sure that the cave must be in there. They left that, however, for a future tour, and came back without further adventure to their landing place, where they found their stores safe upon the beach, but the boat to Bo's consternation had drifted off from the shore, and was now some distance away, floating down the Lake.

"Oh, Yulee!" said he, "what shall we do I see the boat is gone!"

"That is all right," said she cheerfully. "I wouldn't have been half so much of a wreck if the boat had stayed. A'n't you glad we have got all the things out? The next thing we must do is to build a house."

"I'm hungry," said Bo.

"Then we'll have dinner first," said she. "We'll have strawberries to-day, but to-morrow we'll have fish, or you can shoot a goat."

"But there a'n't any goats," said Bo.

"Yes there are; they're in the cave in the clump of trees yonder." Bo couldn't dispute that, but he demurred as to going in there to shoot them. At present, however, they satisfied themselves with eating strawberries, which were very plentiful upon the island.

When they had eaten their strawberries, and had become quite crimson about the mouth and finger-tips, they returned to the landing-place, where Miss Phely had been keeping watch over the stores. She had been placed in a sitting posture, leaning against a stone, and looking out upon Clearwater as wide awake as when she had been put into the boat, and with her arms and fingers extended as if she were delivering an oration. She paid not the slightest attention to the valuables placed under her guard. Bo began to look about for stones to throw into the water while Yulee thought it a good time to attend to Miss Phely's toilet; so she set busily to work changing her frock; when she had finished this to her satisfaction and was debating whether it would be well to wash her face also, she remembered suddenly, what she had forgotten for the while, that she was a cast away.

"Bo!" she cried, "we ought to be building our house."

"What shall we make it of?" said he. She reflected a moment.

"Sometimes they build them of trees and sometimes of skins; the best way is to have a cave. I wish we had a cave, Bo. I've half a mind to try those trees. Will you go in if I will?"

"Ye-es," said Bo, hesitatingly; "but you must go in first."

"Let's make a fire first in the range and have some tea," said Yulee, who could not quite get up courage enough to go in among the trees.

"Oh, do! that'll be fine!" said Bo, joyfully. It was a very important business, this making a fire in the range. Yulee had long been looking forward to it, and now that she was really about to have the fire she proceeded very cautiously, Bo standing ready to help her and peering anxiously into the process. The range was precisely like a real range, only it was very small, and was made of lead instead of iron. It had a grate in the middle for the fire and a place underneath to hold the ashes; it had ovens at the sides; it had flues and dampers and a chimney piece, and even a place in front to heat irons on; moreover, it was furnished with a full set of pots and pans and kettles. In fact it was complete, and in Yulee's opinion, only needed a fire in the grate, real smoke coming out of the chimney, and a kettle of water boiling over it, to make it the most wonderful and perfect thing that ever had been conceived.

Now she set about preparing the fire. First she laid in the newspaper in which she had brought the matches; then Bo was sent off for leaves and came back with some very green grass and leaves of different sorts. Yulee put these very carefully above the paper, and on top of them she laid some twigs that she had broken up into bits, and now the fire was all ready to be lighted.

"Now, Bo," said she, "we must have the water in the kettle and on the range before we light the fire." So Bo took the pump to the lake side and filled it with water, and then hanging the kettle under the nose of the pump, he jerked the pump handle and made the water come plashing out into the kettle. He could have filled the kettle much easier by simply dipping it in the lake, but it would not have been near so good fun. However, it was full of water, and Yulee carefully set it in its place upon the range. Everything now was ready for the fire. Bo held his breath as he leaned on his hands and knees, eagerly watching Yulee while she proceeded to handle the dangerous matches. She took one in her hand and was just about rubbing it on a stone, when she stopped.

"Bo!" she said, "I think we had better set the table first for tea."

"Why, no!" said he, "mother always sets the table after she has set the kettle a boiling."

"But I shall want to watch the fire," said Yulee.—"Yes, I think we had better set the table first." So the match was laid down to Bo's grief, and Yulee proceeded to unpack the box containing her tea-set. They chose for a table a flat rock sunken in the sand, and just the right size. On this they arranged the cups and saucers, and tea-pot and sugar-bowl and creamer.

"We ought to have some real sugar," said Bo.

"So we ought," said Yulee. "There ought to be some in the ship's stores," she added. "They generally find a box of sugar on the beach, a little damaged by the water. At least I believe they did in Swiss Family Robinson."

"Did they in 'The Castaways?'" asked Bo.

"No," said Yulee, "but you know they weren't exactly wrecked the second time—Dr. Cameron went out to the ship when the rest were on shore, and brought back some things—I think there was sugar; let me see—here it is," and she read:—

"When the watering-boat touched the coast, Dr. Cameron went up and courteously requested to be allowed to return in it, as the ladies had forgotten some little necessaries, and he proposed to bring out their own boat, the Little Madras, to enable them to procure these trifles as well as the cooking-apparatus which would be useful if they were detained a few days on shore." Mum, mum, mum. "They succeeded in lowering their own boat, with its oars, and by Marshall's advice, brought from their property the carpenter's chest, disguised under the covering of a travelling trunk, with the powder and shot, ropes and straps, which had been left in the hold of their boat; but every morsel of provision, biscuit, wine and flour had been removed, and could not be found. Dr. Cameron had fortunately locked up his cabin before he left the vessel, and was able to remove his own private property consisting of a bag of coffee, a loaf of sugar, and a chest which contained his valuable medical stores, all of which he now placed in the boat."

Our castaways, however, had to content themselves like some of their betters with sand for sugar, which they put in the sugar bowl, and then filled the creamer with water, though Yulee declared that some time they would find the goats and milk them. The table was now set and Miss Phely was given a place by it, where she sat, still looking out on the water in an abstracted way, and keeping her hands away from her clean frock. She had none of the friskiness commonly belonging to black children; she was anything but a Topsy.

Nothing now remained to be done but to light the fire and make the tea. Again Yulee took a match and Bo stooped down, breathlessly watching the operation. "Ritzch!" went the match and Yulee held it between the bars of the range to light the fire; it didn't seem to burn very well though there was considerable smoke; in fact, the match after burning to the edge of Yulee's fingers went out, and the fire was not yet fairly kindled. Yulee tried another match with about the same success, only a little more smoke.

"Burn a lot at a time," suggested Bo. So she took a bunch of six and got them into a fine blaze. Bo was still peering anxiously while Yulee with her face very red, and her sun-bonnet fallen back, held the bunch of matches between the bars; she tried them first between two and then between another two. All at once something hot fell upon her hand; she dropped the matches in the pan that was to hold the ashes and clapping her other hand upon the spot, began hopping up and down with the pain but determined not to cry.

"Why! what is the matter?" said Bo, in great surprise. Yulee didn't dare trust herself to speak—she was so afraid she might cry, but uncovered her hand to show him, and there they both saw—for she had not looked at it herself yet,—a shining spot as large as a three cent piece, and that looked like silver.

"Why!" exclaimed Yulee.

"Oh!" said Bo.

Yulee forgot her pain for a moment. How did it get there? what was it? she touched it and found that it came off easily. It was irregular at the edges, looking in fact like a spatter of silver.

"What is it?" asked Bo.

"What can it be?" said Yulee. "It looks like silver." She looked toward the range to see if that could explain it. Then she burst into a loud cry.

"Oh, Bo! Oh, Bo!" said she, "the range! the range!" Alas, the matches that had been dropped into the ash-pan, had burnt on and flamed up, melting the lead bars, the first drop from which had burnt poor Yulee's hand. The sticks in the grate had fallen through with the heap of matches, and catching fire, the melting had gone on until now the beautiful range was a sad sight to behold. The kettle just then gave way, and tipping up, spilled the water over, which hissed on the molten lead and caused a great smoke to rise from the burning embers.

Yulee and Bo gazed wofully on the ruin before them. It was too hot at first to touch, and they stood for some time in front of it, looking at the odd shapes that the melting lead had taken. If it had not been for that, they would have been much worse off; but the drops of lead were so curious and looked so much like animals and pieces of silver, that they almost forgot for the time their great loss. But they soon remembered it again and looked sadly at the range.

"Don't you suppose it can be mended?" said Bo.

"I don't know," said Yulee shaking her head, "I don't believe it can. What will mother say!"

"Yulee!" said Bo, suddenly, "I think we ought to pump on it so as to put the fire out." So he ran for his pump which had not been emptied in filling the kettle, and though the trough was somewhat in the way, he managed to spill out the rest of the water on to the hot range, while Yulee brought the cream-jug and emptied its contents also on it. By this time the range was pretty cool and they could handle it; but it was in a sad state, quite melted out.

Yulee tried to solace herself with making tea for Miss Phely; but it was miserable comfort to make tea with cold water that had not even made believe boil as usual on the wonderful range. As for Miss Phely, she was as unconcerned as ever, and seemed equally indifferent whether the water were hot or cold, or even whether the tea were made or not, and sat staring out upon the lake.

But June afternoons, long as they are, have an end at last; and this afternoon was drawing to a close. In the eagerness of making the fire, the little Castaways had not noticed how late it was growing, but now, when they were so disappointed and were sitting with Miss Phely disconsolately by the rock, they saw that the sun had set, and that evening was closing in.

Yes, the night was coming; they had hardly thought of this before and were not at all prepared for it. But it was still warm, for the June afternoon lingers long and far into the evening. Then they fell to eating strawberries again, for make-believe tea where everything is water and sand is not very satisfactory. After the strawberrying they came back to the shore again, and little Bo, now quite disheartened began to make a noise which sounded a little like crying, it was a whimper; but Yulee was brave and kept her courage up, and began telling Bo stories which she had read about people who had been cast away upon islands; but somehow or other she always seemed to remember best the parts where they were attacked by savages and wild beasts, and especially by her favourite hippopotamus. So that Bo only grew more terrified and as it became darker began to fancy he heard animals around them, and once actually thought he saw a great hippopotamus with open jaws coming out of Clearwater toward them. Yulee tried to read "The Castaways," but it soon became too dark. Yet she wouldn't give in to fear, but kept her courage stoutly.

"Bo," said she, "it's getting dark and I think it must be time to put Miss Phely to bed."

"I want to go to bed," said Bo. "I want to go to mother!" and little Bo cried now without any doubt. Yulee bravely kept back her tears and tried to comfort Bo, who soon began to take an interest in the unrobing of Miss Phely, who was put to bed on a very uncomfortable rock—the very one in fact at which she had sat for her tea; but it made no difference to her; she went to sleep with her eyes as wide open as ever.

When this was over, Yulee, never at a loss, began to sing for Bo's amusement and her own comfort. She sang all the songs she knew just as they came into her head. "There is a happy land," "Three little kittens." "Pop goes the weasel," "The sunday-school," and some others which I have forgotten. Would you believe it? Bo fell fast asleep with his head in her lap. Then Yulee felt less badly; before she had been troubled about Bo, but now that he was asleep, leaning so upon her, she felt a courage at having one depending upon her whom she must never desert, no, not even if a hippopotamus, as she said, were to come toward them.

But no hippopotamus came; instead of that, she saw a boat with a light twinkling in it, come rowing down the lake toward the island. The house and the boat-landing could not be seen from the island, because as I said, there was a point of land jutting out, and because the lake too makes a bend. Yulee was singing the song about the little robins as the boat came round the point. She was singing the line

"And what will the robins do then, poor things!"

And looked up at that moment, just as her father catching the sound of her voice—called out:

"There she is! bless her little soul, singing about the robins! Yulee!"

"Here I am, father," said the little Castaway. "Bo, wake up! here's father." Bo gave a sort of snuffle and went to sleep again. The boat with a few pulls was now brought up to the island, and John Robin jumping out, while the boys sat in the boat caught up Yulee and Bo in his arms.

"I've a good mind to give you a good whipping on the spot, you little runaways!" said he; but he did no such thing; perhaps he thought he would leave that to their mother. Bo opened his eyes and blinked in the light of the lanterns, but went right to sleep again on his father's shoulder.

"We didn't run away," said Yulee, "we were cast away in the Little Madras."

"Where's the boat, Yulee?" asked one of her brothers.

"Oh that was washed away of course," said she.

"Why of course?"

"Why, they always are," said she, "and they make new ones out of logs."

"Why didn't you make one out of a log, then?" he asked laughing. But Yulee was too busy collecting her treasures to answer his foolish question. She got them all safely on board at last, Miss Phely being unceremoniously huddled into the boat without waiting to be dressed. Now Yulee was reminded of her poor unfortunate range; but she said nothing about it, only gathering up its ruins and taking especial care of it.

Yulee was very talkative at first, but her father was grave and silent, and her brothers teased her, so that she soon stopped talking and began wondering in her mind how she ever was to get the range mended, and whether there was a cave in the grove of trees which she was very sorry now she had not explored; she secretly determined to make a second trip to the island for that purpose as soon as possible.

But when they came to the shore and walked up to the house, and when Yulee found her mother half wild with thinking she had been drowned, and her grandfather, old Benjy Robin, crooning in his arm-chair and saying he had been the death of them,—she began to think it was not so fine, and lay down that night penitently in her little bed and promised over and over never to be cast away again. As for Bo, he would do just as Yulee said, but he privately resolved never to follow her to sea at any rate. Even Miss Phely appeared so much the worse for her knocking about that I think she must have been better satisfied with her corner in the nursery; but as for repenting of her folly or blaming Yulee, I never heard of her doing so. She always looked contented and indifferent.