He was a clever, active old man, and did his work well and
cheerfully. His great desire was to be able to hold on at his post till
I should be able to take his place.
At the time when my story begins I was nearly twelve years old, and
daily growing taller and stronger. My grandfather was very proud of me,
and said I should soon be a young man, and then he should get me
appointed in his place to look after the lighthouse.
I was very fond of my strange home, and would not have changed it for
any other. Many people would have thought it dull, for we seldom saw a
strange face, and the lighthouse men were only allowed to go on shore
for a few hours once in every two months. But I was very happy, and
thought there was no place in the world like our little island.
Close to the tower of the lighthouse was the house in which I and my
grandfather lived. It was not a large house, but it was a very pleasant
one. All the windows looked out over the sea, and plenty of sharp sea
air came in whenever they were opened. All the furniture in the house
belonged to the lighthouse, and had been there long before my
grandfather came to live there. Our cups and saucers and plates had the
name of the lighthouse on them in large gilt letters, and a little
picture of the lighthouse with the waves dashing round it.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25