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“Oh, Billy, how could you, when mother has so much to do?” It was his sister, Edith, who spoke, her sweet face clouded with rare disapproval. Yet she went on with the music lesson she was giving. “Does he?” May Nell stared innocently into the darkening eyes. “I should think that would make you awfully agitated.” “Are you hurt?” Billy spelled with the hand alphabet every boy and girl knows..

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“Sit near the front so you can give me inspiration, Miss Gordon,” the musician said in an undertone as he stood hat in hand ready to hurry off for the first show. The little room was rude and bare, but Billy loved it. He thought the massive beams like the ribs of a ship, and planned to hang between them all his ship pictures. Anything relating to the sea fired his imagination. It gave him a sense of manliness to sleep there alone; and when the heavier gusts of night wind rocked the tower, and each revolution of the big wheel splashed the water against the tank, as waves lap a ship’s side, he dreamed himself on the ocean, called himself “Captain.” “Hurry up, Buzz!” Billy called as he raced by from the shop, where he had been for the oil can to fill the boat’s reservoir. Not far behind the democrat came a light buggy drawn by a team of greys. Howard Eliot and Nell Gordon sat therein..