Five Little Friends
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Sherred Willcox Adams >> Five Little Friends
"Or," said Bob, "suppose the bottle goes out to sea and a man in a
seaplane sees it and opens it. And suppose he comes flying to Fairport
and when he lands here he asks where we are. Then when he finds us he
takes us for a long, long ride in his seaplane."
It was great fun supposing. The next morning Bob and Paul went to the
beach all ready to have some more supposes.
But what was that small thing lying on the sand? It looked very much
like a bottle. Yes, it was. It was _the_ bottle!
Bob picked it up and looked rather disappointed. Paul looked
disappointed too. "Our supposes are no good now," he said. "Oh yes,"
cried Bob, "I know a fine suppose. It's so good it's almost true. Let's
pretend a big wave was the parcel postman. When he saw the bottle away
out in the ocean with our names in it, he brought it straight to us."
"Why, of course," said Paul. "The parcel postman had to bring the bottle
to us. He couldn't take it to the whale or to the man with the seaplane.
It wasn't addressed to them."
One day Bob's father took Paul and Bob out fishing. They carried their
bait in a tin can and they took a larger can to hold their fish. They
stood on a high rock and threw their lines out into the deep water. The
fish bit very well. Mr. Johnson caught five or six. But the boys were
so excited they could not wait. They drew up their lines too soon. Once
Paul felt a pull and waited. When he felt another pull he drew in his
line. On it was a very tiny fish. "It's too small to keep," said Mr.
Johnson. So he took it carefully off the hook and threw it back into the
water.
In a little while Bob felt a pull on his line. He held it very still and
waited. Soon there was another pull--a very strong one. Then there came
a jerk that almost threw him down. "Now draw in your line," said Mr.
Johnson. "Steady, steady!" Bob pulled. His line almost broke. He pulled
and tugged and pulled again. Then up came the line and on it was a fish
--a big, beautiful fish flapping and twisting. "Good, good," cried Mr.
Johnson. "That's a prize catch."
How proud Bob felt as he landed his fish. He wouldn't let his father
help take it off the hook. He did it all himself. For a moment he stood
with the beautiful prize fish in his hand. Some people were fishing
near-by and he wanted them to see. He wanted them to know of his prize
catch. He felt very proud. "Look," said one of them; "what a great big
fish!" Bob heard and felt prouder than ever. He threw his fish into the
can as if he were saying, "Oh, that's nothing, I _always_ catch the
biggest fish." Then he began to bait his hook again.
Just then Paul cried out, "Oh, Oh, Oh!" quickly. Bob turned just in time
to see his prize fish flop out of the can and back into the sea.
"Oh, Oh, Oh!" He was no longer a proud fisherman. He was just a very sad
little boy.
On another day Bob and Paul stopped in front of a little cottage. A man
was in the yard mending a him. The man was a strong young fisherman.
At the door of the cottage sat an old, old man with white hair. A cane
was by his side. He spoke to Bob and Paul and let them come in and sit
on the steps near him. He was the fisherman's father. He was called
Captain John. He had once been a fisherman himself. Now he was too old
to work, but he knew many stories of the sea. Bob and Paul never grew
tired of hearing them. Every day they came to the cottage. Captain John
was always there sitting in the doorway, with his cane by his side. He
was always ready to tell them an exciting true story of the sea.
One day a big gray cat was curled up at Captain John's feet. "Is pussy
your pet, Captain John?" asked Bob. "No, little lad," said the old man.
"She belongs to my daughter. My pet is almost as old as I am. She's a
brave old friend. We have stuck by each other for over fifty years.
We've seen hard times and good times together. And now we are growing
old side by side."
"Will you show her to us, please, Captain John?" said the two little
boys.
"Yes, yes," replied the old man; "come with me." He took his cane and
walking very, very slowly, he took the boys around the cottage to a tiny
garden. There was one spot in the garden that was bright with flowers.
Captain John led them there. "Here she is," he said. "Here's my old
friend, the _Sea Gull_, dressed up in her Sunday clothes."
The boys looked and saw that the _Sea Gull_ was a boat. She was Captain
John's pet--almost as old as he was. She was his brave old friend who
had stuck by him for over fifty years. Now she was too old for the sea
so she had a home in the tiny garden. The flowers that had been planted
in her were her "Sunday clothes."
"She seems alive to me," said Captain John. "I am glad we can grow old
side by side."
I wish you could hear of all the good times Bob and Paul had at
Fairport. Every day was packed with fun and both little boys grew taller
and very brown.
At last vacation time was nearly over. Bob left Fairport first. He and
his family went home in his father's automobile. They camped out every
night. The camping tents and the pots and pans were strapped on the back
of the automobile. They rode all day. They went over hills, through
valleys, and into cities.
One day they passed a flower farm. "Oh, Mother," begged Bob, "May I stop
and buy some flowers?" "Why, Bob," said his mother, "What do you want
with flowers? We haven't any room for them in the automobile."
"I don't want them to take home," said Bob, "I want to send them by the
postman to Captain John. They are for the _Sea Gull_."
So the automobile stopped and Bob spent his birthday money at the flower
farm. The next day the parcel post brought Captain John a box of spring
bulbs and fall plants. With them was a card in Bob's very best writing:
+-----------------------+
| To Captain John's Pet |
| The "Sea Gull" |
| from |
| B.J. |
| Guess who this is. |
+-----------------------+
Paul stayed in Fairport a week after Bob had left.
He was not lonely, for his daddy had come. Paul and his daddy were great
friends. They went around together like two chums.
The day before Daddy's week was up they went out for a long sail. Mrs.
Ray was afraid to go, but Paul was not. He felt very big and brave. With
Daddy to sail the boat everything would be all right. The sun shone,
the wind blew, and away they started. The boat seemed to skim along as
lightly as a sea gull.
At last they landed on a little island. Paul helped his daddy gather
sticks and build a fire. Mr. Ray put four ears of corn under the wood.
Paul thought they would burn up, but they didn't. The husks covered
them. Next Mr. Ray put a pan on the fire and fried some bacon and
some potatoes. Paul unpacked a basket of sandwiches, and by that time
everything was ready. They had no plates and no napkins. They ate with
their fingers, in just the way little boys sometimes wish to do and
mustn't, when they are at the table.
Daddy told stories of camping and hunting as they sat by the fire.
Time passed very quickly. It was four o'clock before they knew it.
"All aboard," cried Mr. Ray, and in a very few minutes the lunch things
were packed up and they were in the boat. At first the sails filled and
the boat moved swiftly on. But suddenly the sky grew dark. Great claps
of thunder were heard. Lightning played all around the boat. The wind
blew fiercely. The waves dashed so high that the boat was almost upset.
Paul felt very small and almost afraid, but not quite. His big, brave
daddy was there. "Sit still, hold tight," Daddy called. His voice
sounded far away, the storm was making such a noise.
It seemed hours and hours that Paul sat still and held tight. He grew
cold and stiff and wet. The sky became blacker and blacker. The wind
howled louder and louder. Sometimes Daddy shouted, hoping that some one
in a bigger boat would hear and come to help him. But no help came.
All at once a clear, bright light shone over the water. "The
lighthouse!" cried Mr. Ray, "The lighthouse! We are saved."
He turned the boat and steered toward the light. It shone into the
darkness like a kind eye.
Fighting the wind and storm was hard work, but at last the boat reached
the island on which the lighthouse stood. As the boat came to the shore
Mr. Ray called and called. At last the door of the lighthouse opened and
the keeper came out. He helped pull the boat to shore. Then he lifted
Paul out and carried him into the lighthouse and Mr. Ray followed.
At first Paul was too wet and cold and too much frightened to care about
anything. But when he had been warmed and his clothes dried he began to
look around. He was in a cheerful room with the lighthouse keeper and
his wife. His dear daddy was there, too. And there was another person
in the room. This was a little boy with a very pale face. He sat in a
wheeled chair. His poor back was so weak he could not walk. But his face
was bright and smiling. He held out his hand to Paul. "I'm Dick," he
said, "I came to the lighthouse in a storm too, and I've been here ever
since."
"Oh, please tell me about it," said Paul.
"It was eight years ago," began Dick, "when Father Moore found me in a
boat. There had been a shipwreck and I must have been in it. I don't
remember anything about it. I was only two years old and my back had
been hurt. But Father Moore saved me and he and Mother Moore took me to
be their little boy."
"Yes, he's our little boy," said the lighthouse keeper, who was "Father
Moore." "We live here together and keep the light."
"Don't you get lonely?" Paul asked Dick.
"Oh, no," said Dick, "I have a great many things to play with. See!" And
he pointed to a big table near his chair. On it were many small toys.
There was a farm with fences, houses, horses, cows, and chickens. There
were people too--a man, a woman, and two children. Everything was made
of clay. There was a tall clay lighthouse and around it were clay ships
and boats.
"What splendid toys," said Paul. "Did Santa Claus bring them?"
"I made them myself," said Dick proudly. "My back and legs aren't much
good but my fingers do whatever I want them to. Whenever I am lonely I
think of something to make and then my fingers make it. I think," he
went on laughing, "I'll make you and your father after you have gone."
Paul hated to leave the lighthouse and brave little Dick. But he and
Daddy had to go as soon as the storm was over. They knew Mrs. Ray would
be greatly worried about them.
"I'll write to you," said Paul to Dick, "and I'll send you some of my
books with pictures in them. Then you can make more things."
How glad Paul's mother was when her little boy and his daddy reached
home. That night she came in to tuck him snugly in bed.
"Is my little boy sorry this is his last night at Fairport?" she asked.
"No, Mother," said Paul. "I hate to leave Captain John, and the cave,
and the beach, and the ocean; but I want to get home. I want to see Bob
and Betty and Peggy and Dot. I want them to help me do something for
Dick."
"What do you want to do, dear?" asked Mrs. Ray.
"I want to send him something to keep his fingers busy, perhaps a tool
chest and some wood," said Paul. "And, O Mother, do you think we could
do something to make his back strong?"
"Perhaps we can," answered Mrs. Ray. "We must see what we can do to help
him."
You may be sure that some happy days came to Dick after the five little
friends had put their heads together.