His mates shook their heads when they saw the wreck, and drew their rough hands over their eyes; for Ben was a good seaman, and they knew he would never desert his boat alive. They looked for him far and wide, but could hear nothing of him, and felt sure that he had perished in the storm.

They tried to comfort poor Hetty, but she would not be comforted. Her heart seemed broken; and if it had not been for her baby, her neighbors feared that she would have gone to join Ben in his grave under the sea.

Dandelion didn't understand why every one was so sad, and why his father stayed away so long; but he never lost his cheerfulness, never gave up hoping, or stopped saying, "Daddy tummin' soon."

The sunshiny little face was Hetty's only comfort. The sight of the fuzzy, yellow head, bobbing around the house, alone made it endurable; and the touch of the loving baby hands kept her from the despair which made her long to end her sorrow in the sea. But Dandelion didn't get tired. He firmly believed

change his mind.

what he said, and nothing could He had been much troubled at seeing the boat laid up on the beach, all broken and dismantled; but his little mind couldn't take in the idea of shipwreck and death. So, after thinking it over, he decided that Daddy was waiting somewhere for a new boat to be sent to bring him home.

This idea was so strong that the child gathered together his store of toy boats-for he had many, as they were his favorite playthings- and launched them, one after another, telling them to find his father, and bring him home.

As Dandelion was not allowed to play on the beach except at low tide, the little boats sailed away on the receding waves, and the child was sure that some of them would get safely into the distant port where Daddy was waiting.

All the boats were launched at last, all sailed bravely away; but none came back, and little Dandy was much disappointed. He babbled about it to himself; told the snails and the lobsters of his trouble; begged the gulls to fly away and find Daddy; and every windy night, when the sea dashed on the shore and the shutters rattled, he would want the lamp put in the window, as it used to be when they expected Ben and tried to make home look cheerful, even before he got there.

Six long months went by, and no one ever thought of seeing Ben again, no one but his little son, who still watched for him, and his wife, who waited to meet him hereafter.

One bright spring day something happened. The house was as tidy as ever; the spinning wheel hummed briskly, as Hetty sung softly to herself with a cheerful face; though there were white hairs among the

brown, and her eyes had a thoughtful, absent look at times.

Dandelion, more chubby and cheery than ever, sat at her feet, with the sunshine making a golden glory of his yellow hair, as he tried his new boat in the tub of water his mother kept for the little sailor, or tugged away with his fat fingers at a big needle, which he was trying to pull through a bit of cloth intended for a sail.

The faithful little soul had not forgotten his father, but had come to the conclusion that the reason his boats never prospered was because they hadn't large enough sails; so he was intent on rigging a new boat lately given him, with a sail that could not fail to waft Ben safely home.

With his mouth puckered up, his downy eyebrows knit, and both hands pulling at the big needle, he did not mind the stopping of the wheel when Hetty fell into a reverie, thinking of the happy time when she and Ben should meet again. Sitting so, neither heard a step come softly over the sand; neither saw an eager, brown face peer in at the door; and neither knew, for a minute, that Ben was watching them, with a love and longing in his heart that made him tremble like a woman.

Dandelion saw him first; for, as he pulled the thread through with a triumphant jerk, the small sailmaker lost his balance, tumbled over, and lay

staring up at the tall man with blue eyes so wide open they looked as if they would never shut again. All of a sudden, he shouted, with a joyful shout, Daddy's tummin'!" and, the next instant, vanished, ship and all, in the arms of the man who wore the rough jacket.

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likewise; and for a time there was nothing but sobbing and kissing, clinging, and thanking Heaven for its kindness to them. When they grew quieter, and Ben got into his old chair, with his wife on one knee and his boy on the other, he told them how he was wrecked in the gale, picked up by an outwardbound ship, and only able to get back after months of sickness and delay.

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My boaty fetched him," said Dandelion, feeling that everything had turned out just as he expected.

"So it did, my precious. Your faith helped, I haven't a doubt," cried Hetty, hugging the curlyheaded prophet close, as she told Ben all that had happened.

Ben didn't say much, but a few great tears rolled down his rough, blue jacket, as he looked from the queer sail, with its two big stitches, to the little son whose love, he firmly believed, had kept him safe through many dangers, and brought him home at last.

I love birds. They cheer us in our lonely hours, when from their bowers their songs come upon our ears and gladden our hearts.

Their melodies have often told me how happy they were, and how much one bird loved another. They are the poets of nature. Oh, little birds, I