Those days of Daph’s sickness were precious days to Captain Jones, and he was almost sorry when the stout negro triumphed over her enemy, and came on deck to resume her charge. The air grew chill as the “Martha Jane” sped on her northward course, and the white dresses of the children fluttered, most unseasonably, in the cool breeze. The ship’s stores were ransacked for some material, of which to make them more suitable, though extempore clothing. A roll of red flannel was all that promised to answer the purpose. The captain took the place of master-workman, and cut out what he called “a handsome suit for a pair of sea-birds;” and Daph, with her clumsy fingers, made the odd garments. She felt ready to cry as she put them on, to see her pets so disfigured; but Captain Jones laughed at her dolorous face, and said the red frock only made his “lily” look the fairer, and turned Charlie into the sailor he should be. The “Martha Jane” was nearing the familiar waters of her own northern home, when the Captain called Daph into the cabin, one evening, to consult with her on matters of importance. With the happy disposition of the negro, Daph seemed to have forgotten that she was not always to live on board the “Martha Jane,” and under the kind protection of her sailor-friend; she was, therefore, not a little startled, when he addressed to her the blunt question: “Where are you going, Daph?” Now, Daph had a most indistinct idea of the world at large, but, thus brought suddenly to a decision, she promptly named the only northern city of which she had heard. “I’se going to New York,” she said; “Miss Elize, my dear missus, was born dere, and it seems de right sort of a place to be takin de sweet babies to.” “Daph,” said the honest captain, “we shall put in to New York to-morrow, for I have freight to land there, but you had better go on with me to old Boston. There I can look after you a little, and put you under charge of my good mother; and a better woman never trod shoe-leather, for all her son is none of the best. Shall it be so, Daph?” “Could n’t do it! Massa Cap’in. Boston! dat mus be mighty far off. I nebber hear tell of such a place. New York’s de home for my babies, just where missus was born. May be, some ob her grand cousins may be turnin up da, to be friends to de pretty dears. Nobody would eber find us, way off in Boston!” It was in vain that the captain tried to change Daph’s resolution; to New York she would go, and he now attacked her at another point, asking, “What are you going to do when you get there, Daph? Have you got any money?”