Natty of Blue Point

"Natty of Blue Point" is a novel by Lucy Maud Montgomery that follows the adventures of a spirited and imaginative young girl named Natty, who lives in the coastal village of Blue Point. The story explores her relationships with friends and family, delving into themes of friendship, loyalty, and the complexities of growing up. Through Natty's journeys, Montgomery highlights the beauty of nature and the importance of community, painting a vivid portrait of life in a small town. The novel captures the essence of childhood and the challenges of navigating life's transitions with a blend of warmth and charm characteristic of Montgomery's writing.

• Short story

								
Natty Miller strolled down to the wharf where Bliss Ford was tying up
the Cockawee. Bliss was scowling darkly at the boat, a trim new one,
painted white, whose furled sails seemed unaccountably wet and whose
glistening interior likewise dripped with moisture. A group of
fishermen on the wharf were shaking their heads sagely as Natty drew
near.

"Might as well split her up for kindlings, Bliss," said Jake McLaren.
"You'll never get men to sail in her. It passed the first time, seeing
as only young Johnson was skipper, but when a boat turns turtle with
Captain Frank in command, there's something serious wrong with her."

"What's up?" asked Natty.

"The Cockawee upset out in the bay again this morning," answered
Will Scott. "That's the second time. The Grey Gull picked up the men
and towed her in. It's no use trying to sail her. Lobstermen ain't
going to risk their lives in a boat like that. How's things over at
Blue Point, Natty?"

"Pretty well," responded Natty laconically. Natty never wasted words.
He had not talked a great deal in his fourteen years of life, but he
was much given to thinking. He was rather undersized and insignificant
looking, but there were a few boys of his own age on the mainland who
knew that Natty had muscles.

"Has Everett heard anything from Ottawa about the lighthouse business
yet?" asked Will.

Natty shook his head.

"Think he's any chance of getting the app'intment?" queried Adam
Lewis.

"Not the ghost of a chance," said Cooper Creasy decidedly. "He's on
the wrong side of politics, that's what. Er rather his father was. A
Tory's son ain't going to get an app'intment from a Lib'ral
government, that's what."

"Mr. Barr says that Everett is too young to be trusted in such a
responsible position," quoted Natty gravely.

Cooper shrugged his shoulders.

"Mebbe--mebbe. Eighteen is kind of green, but everybody knows that
Ev's been the real lighthouse keeper for two years, since your father
took sick. Irving Elliott wants that light--has wanted it for
years--and he's a pretty strong pull at headquarters, that's what.
Barr owes him something for years of hard work at elections. I ain't
saying anything against Elliott, either. He's a good man, but your
father's son ought to have that light as sure as he won't get it,
that's what."

"Any of you going to take in the sports tomorrow down at Summerside?"
asked Will Scott, in order to switch Cooper away from politics, which
were apt to excite him.

"I'm going, for one," said Adam. "There's to be a yacht race atween
the Summerside and Charlottetown boat clubs. Yes, I am going. Give you
a chance down to the station, Natty, if you want one."

Natty shook his head.

"Not going," he said briefly.

"You should celebrate Victoria Day," said Adam, patriotically.
"'Twenty-fourth o' May's the Queen's birthday, Ef we don't get a
holiday we'll all run away,' as we used to say at school. The good old
Queen is dead, but the day's been app'inted a national holiday in
honour of her memory and you should celebrate it becoming, Natty-boy."

"Ev and I can't both go, and he's going," explained Natty. "Prue and
I'll stay home to light up. Must be getting back now. Looks squally."

"I misdoubt if we'll have Queen's weather tomorrow," said Cooper,
squinting critically at the sky. "Looks like a northeast blow, that's
what. There goes Bliss, striding off and looking pretty mad. The
Cockawee's a dead loss to him, that's what. Nat's off--he knows how
to handle a boat middling well, too. Pity he's such a puny youngster.
Not much to him, I reckon."

Natty had cast loose in his boat, the Merry Maid, and hoisted his
sail. In a few minutes he was skimming gaily down the bay. The wind
was fair and piping and the Merry Maid went like a bird. Natty, at
the rudder, steered for Blue Point Island, a reflective frown on his
face. He was feeling in no mood for Victoria Day sports. In a very
short time he and Ev and Prue must leave Blue Point lighthouse, where
they had lived all their lives. To Natty it seemed as if the end of
all things would come then. Where would life be worth living away from
lonely, windy Blue Point Island?

David Miller had died the preceding winter after a long illness. He
had been lighthouse keeper at Blue Point for thirty years. His three
children had been born and brought up there, and there, four years
ago, the mother had died. But womanly little Prue had taken her place
well, and the boys were devoted to their sister. When their father
died, Everett had applied for the position of lighthouse keeper. The
matter was not yet publicly decided, but old Cooper Creasy had sized
the situation up accurately. The Millers had no real hope that Everett
would be appointed.

Victoria Day, while not absolutely stormy, proved to be rather
unpleasant. A choppy northeast wind blew up the bay, and the water was
rough enough. The sky was overcast with clouds, and the May air was
raw and chilly. At Blue Point the Millers were early astir, for if
Everett wanted to sail over to the mainland in time to catch the
excursion train, no morning naps were permissible. He was going alone.
Since only one of the boys could go, Natty had insisted that it should
be Everett, and Prue had elected to stay home with Natty. Prue had
small heart for Victoria Day that year. She did not feel even a thrill
of enthusiasm when Natty hoisted a flag and wreathed the Queen's
picture with creeping spruce. Prue felt as badly about leaving Blue
Point Island as the boys did.

The day passed slowly. In the afternoon the wind fell away to a dead
calm, but there was still a heavy swell on, and shortly before sunset
a fog came creeping up from the east and spread over the bay and
islands, so thick and white that Prue and Natty could not even see
Little Bear Island on the right.

"I'm glad Everett isn't coming back tonight," said Prue. "He could
never find his way cross the harbour in that fog."

"Isn't it thick, though," said Natty. "The light won't show far
tonight."

At sunset they lighted the great lamps and then settled down to an
evening of reading. But it was not long before Natty looked up from
his book to say, "Hello, Prue, what was that? Thought I heard a
noise."

"So did I," said Prue. "I sounded like someone calling."

They hurried to the door, which looked out on the harbour. The night,
owing to the fog, was dark with a darkness that seemed almost
tangible. From somewhere out of that darkness came a muffled shouting,
like that of a person in distress.

"Prue, there's somebody in trouble out there!" exclaimed Natty.

"Oh, it's surely never Ev!" cried Prue.

Natty shook his head.

"Don't think so. Ev had no intention of coming back tonight. Get that

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