the ship. must!"

It is like a real one.

Please, aunt, I

Aunt Charlotte looked grave.

"It is always ships with you, Harty. I wish you would take an interest in something else."

"May I have it?-may I buy it?"

Harty, in his eagerness, had caught up the little model, and was clasping it to him so lovingly that Dolly burst out laughing.

"You know I never hinder you from buying what you please with your savings," said his aunt. "Of course, if you have enough money, you can purchase it. What have you chosen, Dolly ?"

"This farm-yard, with the little girl feeding the chickens," said Dolly. "See, when it is wound up, the cock flaps his wings, and the turkey-cock opens his bill; one could fancy hearing his 'gobble, gobble;' and look, aunty, the girl lifts her hand, and the chickens put their heads down, just as if they were picking up the I think it is so pretty."

corn.

"Master Harty has chosen the most expensive toy of the lot," said Pranks.

The box was opened, and then, alas! when the money was counted, there was not nearly enough to pay for the ship. It was so much larger and better made than the others, that the price was nearly double.

"Oh, Harty, do have something else!" urged Dolly.

"This mill, with the miller and his men, all going up the steps; or the farm-yard, or the hunting."

But Harty would have none of them. He had set his heart upon the ship, and nothing else would please him.

Then Dolly whispered to her aunt. But aunt shook her head, though she kissed the little girl for her generous proposal; for Dolly had wished to give up her own toy and put the money to Harty's, so that he might purchase the coveted ship.

But Aunt Charlotte was sensible. She did not wish that Harty should always have his own way, and have all things made smooth to meet his desires. Dolly had been very good lately, and Aunt Charlotte intended that she should have some little reward.

"There is nothing to be done, Harty, that I can see, but to save your money, and buy the ship next time Peter You will keep it for him?" Aunt Charlotte said,

comes.

turning to the pedlar.

"Of course I will, ma'am," returned Pranks, as he proceeded to shut up his pack, Harty having reluctantly yielded up the coveted toy.

"Eh! master, if you had seen as much of ships as I have, you would not be so set upon them," said Pranks, in his piping little voice.

Harty looked up eagerly from the money he had been counting over again, as if he could make it come to more. "Have you been at sea?" he asked.

"Ay, that I have, Master Harty, once too often!" replied the pedlar.

"Oh! do tell me about it," cried Harold, his disappointment, for the time, forgotten in the anticipation of a delight he had before experienced in listening to a tale of adventure.

May we hear the story, aunty?" asked the boy, while Dolly looked eager.

Aunt Charlotte was accustomed to the request. Peter Pranks was famous for his stories, which made him as welcome among the children as the drawer of sweets which was somewhere in his pack. Everybody who knew the old man respected him. He had been well taught, and was honest and kind-hearted.

"Yes, go and sit in the porch," replied his aunt. "Peter, you are going to sleep in the village?"

"Yes, ma'am, at the old place. I have had a bed there just upon forty years whenever I come this way." "I shall see you in the morning again," said Aunt Charlotte.

The children went with Pranks to sit in the porch, where the sweet breeze now made all cool and pleasant. A nightingale sang in the old copper beech, the roses and syringa smelled deliciously where they sat.

Old Pranks looked out at the quiet scene.

lovely home, Master Harold," he said.

"You have

"Harty is always wanting to go away travelling to strange countries," said Dolly.

Peter shook his head. "No place like home," he said. "I found that when it was too late, and I had no home

"I was born and brought up in a village on the sea coast."

"Will it be about the dog, too?" asked Harty; "about Bannock's grandmother?"

"All in good time," answered Peter.

"Bannock, hearing his name mentioned, pushed himself into the group, and lay down at the pedlar's feet. "I was fond of the sea when a boy," Peter went on.

CHAPTER III.

PETER'S STORY-THE STORM.

"My father had been a fisherman. I could just remember him sailing off in his boat to the herring fishery; and it was like in a dream I recalled the great shining nets, full of silvery fish, and the rejoicing when there had been a good 'take,' as it was called; for my father and his boat had both been lost at sea, one stormy night, when I was a very little fellow; which was what had given my poor mother such a dislike to the sea, no doubt, and made her do all she could to discourage the taste I had for it.

"We lived in a cottage, some distance from the village; it stood all by itself, in a little bay, out of sight of the boats on shore; though when the fleet was out to sea we had a fine view of their white sails, with the sun glinting on them. My mother, grandmother, and myself lived there, and our living was earned by the making and mending of nets for the fishermen.

"If my mother could have got a livelihood any other