Charlie thought proper to clap his hands, too, and to cry out, boisterously, “Caky! caky!”--a cry which Daph well understood, and for which she was amply prepared. She drew from one of her huge pockets some cakes for the children, and then they all three began to chat as pleasantly as if they were at their favorite resort, under the old tree that grew in front of Daph’s southern kitchen. Daph found it a difficult business to dress her young master and mistress, but Louise was a helpful little creature, and was of great assistance in enabling the new nurse to select the suitable garments, from the store that had been hastily thrust into the great basket. It was an easy matter to comb Louise’s soft, straight golden hair off her fair forehead, but it was another thing to deal with master Charlie’s mop of short, chestnut curls. The new bond between Daph and the sturdy boy had well nigh been broken, by the smart pulls she gave, in the course of her unskilful efforts. When Captain Jones came into the cabin after his usual round on deck, in the morning, he was greeted by the sound of merry young voices, which struck strangely on his ear. Daph gave one peep from the state-room, to be sure who was near at hand, and then leading out the children, she bade them “go right to the very kindest gentleman that anybody ever had for a friend.” Charlie put out his arms towards the honest captain, who took the little fellow warmly to his heart. Louise held on to Daph’s apron with one hand, and the other she put out timidly towards her new friend. That small, soft, gentle hand was placed in the hard, dark palm of the captain, quietly as a flower might fall on a wayside path. Captain Jones bent tenderly down to the fair, slender child, and kissed her smooth forehead. She loosened her hold of Daph, and nestled at his side. Again those stranger-tears filled the captain’s eyes, but he did not look the worse for them, or for the kindly smile that beamed from his frank, sun-burnt face. An odd looking party sat round the breakfast-table, in the cabin, that morning. Captain Jones was at the head, with Charlie on his knee; opposite him was perched the little Louise, while the weather-browned faces of the mates appeared at the sides. Daph had claimed the privilege of milking “Passenger,” the cow--which Captain Jones had taken with him on many voyages, and on which he had lavished much of the surplus affection of his bachelor-heart. “Passenger,” would have found out that she had powerful rivals, if she could have seen Charlie, enjoying his cup of fresh milk on the captain’s knee, and Louise looking at him with mild trustful glances, that went right to his heart.