She loves me, that little pure thing, that says its prayers night and morning, and asks God to bless its father on the sea.

She's my angel.

Mayhap those little prayers will get heard some day, and a blessing will come to me and make me a different man.

Only the Almighty could turn Derry Duck into a father fit for that child's eyes to look on.

My heart yearns after her when I'm far away, but I don't let her write to me.