The sea was calm and the sky cloudless. Any change in the weather
was as unexpected as it is in books. Suddenly a West Indian Hurricane,
purely local in character and unfelt anywhere else, struck Master
Hickory and threw him overboard, whence, wildly swimming for his life
and carrying Polly on his back, he eventually reached a Desert Island in
the closet. Here the rescued party put up a tent made of a table-cloth
providentially snatched from the raging billows, and, from two o'clock
until four, passed six weeks on the island, supported only by a piece
of candle, a box of matches, and two peppermint lozenges. It was at this
time that it became necessary to account for Polly's existence among
them, and this was only effected by an alarming sacrifice of their
morality; Hickory and Wan Lee instantly became PIRATES, and at once
elected Polly as their Queen. The royal duties, which seemed to be
purely maternal, consisted in putting the Pirates to bed after a day of
rapine and bloodshed, and in feeding them with licorice water through a
quill in a small bottle. Limited as her functions were, Polly performed
them with inimitable gravity and unquestioned sincerity.
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