May would come tripping over the rocks,—­a little sunburnt girl now, with tattered clothes and bare feet,—­and she would bring a pretty pink conch-shell or the lovely rose-colored sea-mosses, and tell her funny little story of where she found them.  The discontented people would gather around her:  she would give a sailor kiss to one, and a French kiss to another, and, best of all, a Yankee kiss, with both arms round his neck, to her own dear father; and then, somehow or other, the discontent and trouble would be gone, for a little while at least,—­just as a cloud sometimes seems to melt away in the sunshine; and so May Warner earned the name of “Little Sunshine.”

If anybody had picked up driftwood enough to make a fire, and could get an old battered kettle and some water to make a soup of shell fish, “Little Sunshine” must be invited to dinner, for half the enjoyment would be wanting without her.

If a great black cloud came up threatening a shower, the roughest man on the island forgot his own discomfort, in making a tent to keep “Little Sunshine” safe from the rain.  And so, in a thousand ways, she cheered the weary days, making everybody happier for having her there.

Do you think there are any children who would have made the people less happy by being there? who would have complained and fretted, and been selfish and disagreeable?

Ten days go by, so slowly that they seem more like weeks or months than like days.  The people have suffered from the rain, from heat, from want of food.  They are very weak now; some of them can hardly stand.  Can you imagine how they feel, when, in the early morning, two great gun-boats come in sight, making straight for their island as fast as the strong steam-engines will take them?  Can you think how tenderly and carefully they are taken on board, fed with broth and wine, and nursed back into health and strength?  And do not forget the little treasures that go in May’s pocket,—­the bits of coral, the tinted sea-shells, and ruby-colored mosses; and nested among them all, and chief in her regard, a little five-fingered star, spiny and dry, but still showing a crimson coat, and dots which mark the places of five eyes, and a little scarlet water-strainer, now of no further use to the owner.  Do you remember our old friend the star-fish?  Well, this is his great-great-great-great-great-grandchild.  In a week or two more, the rescued people have all reached California, and gone their separate ways, never to meet again.  But all carry in their hearts the memory of “Little Sunshine,” who lightened their troubles, and cheered their darkest days.

WHAT THE FROST GIANTS DID TO NANNIE’S RUN

THE FROST GIANTS

Do you believe in giants?  No, do you say?  Well, listen to my story, which is a really true one, and then answer my question.

Many hundreds of years ago, certain people who lived in the North, and were therefore called Northmen, had a strange idea of the form and situation of the earth:  they thought it was a flat, circular piece of land, surrounded by a great ocean; and that this ocean was again surrounded by a wall of snow-covered mountains, where lived the race of Frost Giants.