"Now," said the fairy to Tom, "will you be a good boy for my sake, and torment no more sea-beasts till I come back?" "And you will cuddle me again?" said poor little Tom. "Of course I will, you little duck. I should like to take you with me and cuddle you all the way, only I must not"; and away she went. So Tom really tried to be a good boy, and tormented no sea-beasts after that as long as he lived; and he is quite alive, I assure you, still. Oh, how good little boys ought to be who have kind pussy mammas to cuddle them and tell them stories; and how afraid they ought to be of growing naughty, and bringing tears into their mammas' pretty eyes! "Thou little child, yet glorious in the night Of heaven-born freedom on thy Being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The Years to bring the inevitable yoke-- Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? Full soon thy soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life." WORDSWORTH. CHAPTER VI HERE I come to the very saddest part of all my story. I know some people will only laugh at it, and call it much ado about nothing. But I know one man who would not; and he was an officer with a pair of grey moustaches as long as your arm, who said once in company that two of the most heart-rending sights in the world, which moved him most to tears, which he would do anything to prevent or remedy, were a child over a broken toy and a child stealing sweets. The company did not laugh at him; his moustaches were too long and too grey for that: but, after he was gone, they called him sentimental and so forth, all but one dear little old Quaker lady with a soul as white as her cap, who was not, of course, generally partial to soldiers; and she said very quietly, like a Quaker: "Friends, it is borne upon my mind that that is a truly brave man." [Illustration: "He crept away among the rocks, and got to the cabinet, and behold! it was open."--_P. 172_.]