Then they went up into the tower, and Captain Jim showed and explained the mechanism of the great light.

Finally they found themselves in the dining room, where a fire of driftwood was weaving flames of wavering, elusive, sea-born hues in the open fireplace.
"I put this fireplace in myself," remarked Captain Jim.

"The Government don't give lighthouse keepers such luxuries.

Look at the colors that wood makes.

If you'd like some driftwood for your fire, Mistress Blythe, I'll bring you up a load some day.