"I was just wondering where Lota Hyde could be this time, when on a sudden I observed little Tommy poke his curly head out of the booby-hatch, peeping cautiously round; seeing nobody, however, save the man at the wheel, who was looking over his shoulder at the sun, the small rogue made a bolt out of the companion, and scampered aft under the awning to the judge's starboard door, with nothing on but his night-shirt. There he commenced kicking and shoving with his bare feet and arms, till the door flew open, and over went Tommy on his nose, singing out in fine style. The next thing I heard was a laugh like the sound of a silver bell; and just as the boy's sister ran up in a fright lest he had gone overboard, Violet Hyde came out leading the little chap wrapped in a long shawl that trailed astern of him, herself with a straw bonnet barely thrown upon her head. 'Tommy says you put him in bed too soon, Jane!' said she, smiling. 'Iss!' said Master Thomas, stoutly, 'go 'way, Dzane!' 'You hadn't bid me good-night--wasn't that it, Tom? But oh! _what_ a sea!' exclaimed she, catching sight of it under the awning. The little fellow wanted to see it, too; so the young lady lifted him up in her arms, no small weight I daresay, and they both looked over the bulwark: the whole sky far out of the awning to westward being spotted with orange scales, turning almost scarlet, faster than the dusk from both ends could close in; the clear greenish tint of it above the openings of the canvas going up into fathomless blue overhead, the horizon purple, and one or two still black clouds tipped with vermilion against the far sky--while the Indiaman stole along, scarce plashing under her bends.