The boys were almost as perplexed as their mother. The little they had heard of God filled them with terror, and so to hear such a prayer as this was something so startling that they could think and talk of nothing else until their father came in, when, as usual, silence fell on the whole family, for Coomber was in a sullen mood now. The next day Tiny, as she had called herself, was decidedly better. A little bed had been made up for her in the family living-room, and she lay there, quiet but observant, while Mrs. Coomber went about her work--cooking and cleaning and mending, and occasionally stopping to kiss the little wistful face that watched her with such quiet curiosity. "Am I in a s'ip now?" the child asked at length, when Mrs. Coomber had kissed her several times. "You're in a boat, deary; but you needn't be afraid; our boat is safe enough." "I ain't afraid; Dod is tatin' tare of me," said the child, with a little sigh. Mrs. Coomber wondered whether she was thinking of the storm; whether she could tell them who she was, and where her friends might be found; and she ventured to ask her several questions about this, but failed to elicit any satisfactory answer. The child was sleepy, or had forgotten what Mrs. Coomber thought she would be sure to remember; but it was evident she had taken notice of her surroundings during the last few days, for after a little while she said, "Where's der boys--dat Dick and Tom?" Mrs. Coomber was amused. "They're out in the boat looking after the nets," she said. "When they toming home?" asked the little girl; "home to dis boat, I mean," she added. "Oh, they'll come soon," replied Mrs. Coomber. "But, now, can't you tell me something about your mother and father, and where you lived, my deary?" she asked again. "I tomed in a s'ip, and 'ou my mammy now," said the child, looking round the cosy room with perfect content. "But where is your own mammy, who taught you to say your prayers?" asked Mrs. Coomber. The tears came into the sweet blue eyes for a minute as she said, "See dorn up dere, to tay in Dod's house, and Tiny do too if see a dood dal." Mrs. Coomber laid down the jacket she was patching, and kissed the serious little face. "Is your mother dead, my deary?" she asked, while the tears shone in her own eyes. "See done to see daddy, and tell him about Tiny," answered the child; from which Mrs. Coomber gathered that mother and father were both dead; and when her husband came home she told him what she had heard, which seemed to afford the old fisherman a good deal of satisfaction. "Then she's ours safe enough, mother," he said, rubbing his hands, "and when she gets well she'll toddle about the old boat like our own little Polly did." "But I thought you said Peters was going to see the newspaper man to tell him to put something in the _Stamford Mercury_ about finding her, so that her friends should know she was saved, and come and fetch her."