Sonnie-Boy's People. James B. Connolly

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СКАЧАТЬ waters like a rolling, flaming carpet, and in that flaming path the gray war-ships bobbed to anchor; and on the quarter-deck of every ship a red-coated band was drawn up, and from the jack-staff of every ship an American ensign was slowly dropping down. The boy stood with his back to her, but Marie knew how his heart was thumping, and she knew the light that would be on his face.

      "O say! can you see—" came the swelling notes over the gently heaving bay. Marie could feel that young Greg was ready to burst; but she could not detect a move, not a quiver, out of him until the last note of the last bugle had ceased to re-echo. Then he saluted reverently, executed an about-face, and called out excitedly: "Auntie, auntie, there's papa now! Look!"

      Marie pretended to see for the first time the towboat which, a hundred yards or so down the beach, was making a landing. "Sure enough, Greg!"

      "And somebody else!"

      "No; is there?"

      "Why, don't you see—godfather, auntie! O papa! Godfather!" He was off.

      When he returned he was clinging on the one hand to a tall, brown, lean-cheeked, and rather slender man of thirty four or five, in dusty corduroy coat and trousers, mud-caked shoes and leggings, khaki shirt, and a hard-looking, low-blocked Panama hat; and on the other hand to a man also sun-tanned, but less tall and not so lean—a muscular, active man who may have lived the thirty years which Necker ascribed to him, but who surely did not look it now. At sight of Marie Welkie stepping down from the screened veranda he bounded like sixteen years across the beach. "Marie Welkie—at last!"

      "Andie Balfe!" She took his hands within hers and drew them up in front of her bosom. The smile which Necker had so wanted to see again was there now, and now not to vanish in a moment. Balfe brushed her finger tips with his lips.

      "How far this time, Andie?"

      "From half the world around, Marie."

      "And are you glad?"

      "And I would come it twice again to see your dear eyes smile."

      "Could eyes be made so dull as not to light to your poetic touch, Andie?" And then, in a low voice, "Wait for the sunset." She stood upon her toes for her brother's kiss. "Another hard, hot day, Greg?"

      "No, no, a fine day, Marie. Pedro"—he motioned to the negro at their rear—"put Mr. Balfe's suit-case in the corner of the veranda there. That'll be all to-night, except to see that Mr. Balfe's trunks come up from the towboat."

      He paused on the veranda steps to get a view of the bay. As he stood there in silence, the lively notes of a dozen buglers came sharply to them. He still held the boy's hand.

      "Mess call, papa?"

      "Getting so you know them all, aren't you, Sonnie-Boy? One minute from now ten thousand husky lads out there will be doing awful things to the commissary grub. But look there! Andie, did any of your kings or presidents ever offer you sights more gorgeous than that to view from their palace walls?"

      It was the afterglow of the sunset, a red-and-orange glory fading into the blue-black velvet of a Caribbean twilight.

      "It's by way of greeting to the far traveller. This may be the last place on earth here, Andie, but we warrant our sunsets to be the best on the market. But let's go inside and make ready to eat. What do you say, Sonnie-Boy?"

      "But, papa, you said that when godfather came you would have the Little Men sing you a song for the steam-engine he sent me from Japan!"

      "That's right, I did. But where is it?"

      "Right here, papa." From the veranda corner he picked up a toy locomotive. "Look! Lightning, I've named it."

      "A fine name for it, too. Well, let me see. How was it? Oh, yes! Lunch-time to-day it was, and your papa was smoking his cigar and looking out to sea all by himself. It was very quiet, with all the donkey-engines stopped and the men eating inside the walls. On the bluff beyond the fort I was sitting, with my feet hanging over the edge, and the mango-tree I've told you so often about was shading me from the sun. The wind was blowing just a wee mite, and every time the wind would blow and the tree would wave, a mango would drop into the bay. Plump! it would go into the ocean below, and every time a mango dropped down a Little Man in a green coat popped up."

      "All wet, papa?"

      "Shiny wet, Sonnie-Boy, and blowing their cheeks out like so many blub-blubs."

      "What's blub-blubs, papa?"

      "A blub-blub is a fat little fish who takes big long gulps deep down in the ocean and then comes to the top o' the water, and, when he sees anybody watching him, puffs out his cheeks and goes—blub-blub! like that."

      "Like men sometimes, papa?"

      "Just like. Well, by 'n' by there were twelve o' the Little Men in green coats, and they sat under the mango-tree all in a row and looked at me, and the one at the head o' the row puts up one finger, with his head to one side and his little round eye rolling out at me, and he says: 'Did Sonnie-Boy's godfather send him that steam-engine from Japan yet, what you told us about? 'Cause if he did, we have a fine pome about it.'

      "'Yes, he did send him a fine steam-engine from Japan,' I said, 'and you go on and let me hear your pome, and if it's a good pome I'll give you all a fine ripe mango to eat.' And so they all puffs out their fat little cheeks and they begins:

      "'Godfather bought him an engine, red and black,

       It wabbles slightly and the wheels don't track——'"

      "But it don't, papa, 'n' the wheels do track."

      "But that's what they said.

      "'But Sonnie-Boy felt prouder than England's queen

       When it puffed real smoke and sure-enough steam.'"

      "But it's a king in England, papa."

      "I know, but that's the way the Little Green Men told me. Some things they don't know yet, they're so little.

      "He named it Lightning 'cause of its speed,

       And the 'casional spills he did not heed.

       All big roads had accidents, people knew—

       There was danger sure when the whistle blew.'"

      "It's true, 'bout th' accidents, isn't it, papa?"

      "Nothing truer. Now, let me see. What else? Oh, yes:

      "'The Lightning Express is coming back,

       Clear the way there, people, off the track!

       Or Sonnie-Boy's engine, red and black,

       Will knock you down and hit you whack!'"

      "How's that?"

      "That's great, papa. And did they have a band with them?"

      "No. No band, but one little six-toed fellow—I 'most forgot him—was playing on a hook-a-zoo. That's a sausage-shaped thing, with things like rabbit's ears on it. The music comes СКАЧАТЬ