"Wait till to-morrow!"
But the first speakers were already hurrying across the pasture with Mr.
Andrews, stopping here and there to pick strawberries or raspberries,
and to look for some blueberries that had ripened before their fellows.
The walk was longer than they expected, and the way through the tangled
underbrush of the woods was no easy one; but they at length came out
into the pasture-land at the northern end of the island, and from there
the path was smoother.
The light-keeper gave them a gruff but hearty welcome, and his wife
invited as many to come into her nest of a house as the little room
would hold.
The two boys belonging to the family were shy but radiant at the
prospect of something to break the monotony of their island life.
"I suppose you want to go up and see the lantern, boys," said Jacob
Kramer, the light-keeper.--"Here you, John and Jerry, go up with 'em,
and tell 'em all about how it works."
John made no reply save to run up the steps leading to the lighthouse,
and Jerry, with the crowd of other boys, followed, or as many as could
enter at once.
After the lantern had been examined, John led the way down the side of
the cliff where they could see the surf-bell rung by the waves.
"That sounds like somebody's funeral!" exclaimed Joe Chester, shrugging
his shoulders.
"Doesn't it keep you awake at night?" asked Ned Gould.
John shook his head.
"Nothin' keeps me awake, only the storms when the big waves strike 'way
up against the house and spatter the top windows."
"Do you have such storms as that, really?" asked Dave.