On this bright summer day, a neat awning was rigged over Mr.Tartar's flower-garden as only a sailor can rig it, and there was a sea-going air upon the whole effect, so delightfully complete, that the flower-garden might have appertained to stern-windows afloat, and the whole concern might have bowled away gallantly with all on board, if Mr.
Tartar had only clapped to his lips the speaking-trumpet that was slung in a corner, and given hoarse orders to heave the anchor up, look alive there, men, and get all sail upon her! Mr.Tartar doing the honours of this gallant craft was of a piece with the rest.

When a man rides an amiable hobby that shies at nothing and kicks nobody, it is only agreeable to find him riding it with a humorous sense of the droll side of the creature.

When the man is a cordial and an earnest man by nature, and withal is perfectly fresh and genuine, it may be doubted whether he is ever seen to greater advantage than at such a time.

So Rosa would have naturally thought (even if she hadn't been conducted over the ship with all the homage due to the First Lady of the Admiralty, or First Fairy of the Sea), that it was charming to see and hear Mr.Tartar half laughing at, and half rejoicing in, his various contrivances.

So Rosa would have naturally thought, anyhow, that the sunburnt sailor showed to great advantage when, the inspection finished, he delicately withdrew out of his admiral's cabin, beseeching her to consider herself its Queen, and waving her free of his flower-garden with the hand that had had Mr.Crisparkle's life in it.
'Helena! Helena Landless! Are you there ?' 'Who speaks to me?
Not Rosa ?' Then a second handsome face appearing.
'Yes, my darling!' 'Why, how did you come here, dearest ?' 'I--I don't quite know,' said Rosa with a blush; 'unless I am dreaming!' Why with a blush?
For their two faces were alone with the other flowers.
Are blushes among the fruits of the country of the magic bean-stalk?
'_I_ am not dreaming,' said Helena, smiling.