ODD CRAFT

By W.W. Jacobs



THE CASTAWAY

Mrs. John Boxer stood at the door of the shop with her hands clasped on
her apron. The short day had drawn to a close, and the lamps in the
narrow little thorough-fares of Shinglesea were already lit. For a time
she stood listening to the regular beat of the sea on the beach some
half-mile distant, and then with a slight shiver stepped back into the
shop and closed the door.

[Illustration: "Mrs. John Boxer stood at the door of the shop with her
hands clasped on her apron."]

The little shop with its wide-mouthed bottles of sweets was one of her
earliest memories. Until her marriage she had known no other home, and
when her husband was lost with the _North Star_ some three years before,
she gave up her home in Poplar and returned to assist her mother in the
little shop.

In a restless mood she took up a piece of needle-work, and a minute or
two later put it down again. A glance through the glass of the door
leading into the small parlour revealed Mrs. Gimpson, with a red shawl
round her shoulders, asleep in her easy-chair.

Mrs. Boxer turned at the clang of the shop bell, and then, with a wild