Excerpt from Richard Cable, the Lightshipman, Vol. 1 of 3

In the cabin of a lightship off the Essex coast sat Richard Cable, knitting a baby"s sock or boot. The sock was small, so small that when he thrust his great thumb into it, his thumb filled it.

"Thirteenth row," said Richard Cable. "One, two, three, four," he began aloud, and went from four to forty-seven in decreasing tone, reaching finally an inaudible whisper. Then he raised his voice again: "Two together; one, two, three, four, five, six. Two together; one, two, three, four." His tones died away again. He moved his lips; but no sound issued from them till he reached forty-seven, and that he uttered as if it exploded on his lips.

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