She had no bonnet on.

She ran out on deck, and looked about, dazed.

The sight of the wharves and the ships seemed to stun her.
"Where ?" she cried.
I took her by the arm and pointed out her father, who still stood holding the fishing-pole in one hand, while endeavoring to clutch the swinging fish with the other.
The plank had just been thrown out from the little deck.

Corny made one bound.

I think she struck the plank in the middle, like an India-rubber ball, and then she was on the wharf; and before he could bring his eyes down to the earth, her arms were around her father's neck, and she was wildly kissing and hugging him.
Mr.Chipperton was considerably startled, but when he saw who it was who had him, he threw his arms around Corny, and hugged and kissed her as if he had gone mad.
Rectus was out by this time, and as he and I stood on the tug, we could not help laughing, although we were so happy that we could have cried.
There stood that ridiculous figure, Mr.Chipperton, in his short green trousers and his thin striped coat, with his arms around his daughter, and the fishing-pole tightly clasped to her back, while the poor little fish dangled and bobbed at every fresh hug.
Everybody on board was looking at them, and one of the little black boys, who didn't appear to appreciate sentiment, made a dash for the fish, unhooked it, and put like a good fellow.