Asleep, it
seemed to be, all curled up like a rose on its mother's breast, and
its pooty eyes tight shut. I loosed the poor arms--they was like a
stattoo's, so round and white and cold; and I took the child up in
my arms; and lo' ye! it opened its eyes and looked straight at me
and laughed."
"And it said, Daddy?" cried the delighted child, clapping her hands.
"Tell what it said!"
"It said ''Tar,'" the old man continued, in a hushed voice. "'Tar,'
it said as plain as I say it to you. 'And "Star" it is!' says I; for
'if ever a star shone on a dark night, it's you, my pooty,' I says.
'Praise the Lord,' I says. 'Amen, so be it.' Then I laid your poor
ma in a corner, under the lee of the big rock, where the spray
wouldn't fly over her, and I covered her with the sail; and then I
took the fur cloak, seein' the baby needed it and she didn't, and
wrapped it round the little un, and clumb back over the rocks, up
to the house. And so, Honeysuckle--"
"And so," cried the child, taking his two great hands and putting
them softly together, "so I came to be your little Star!"
"To be my little Star!" assented the old man, stooping to kiss the
golden head.
"Your light and your joy!" exclaimed the child, laughing with
pleasure.
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