noon
As I told ye in the fust o n't , I 'm keeper o ' the light at the end o ' Southport Island , an ' have been for thirty year . `` One night in March , just nineteen year ago comin ' this spring , thar was a small bark got a-foul o ' White Hoss Ledge right off 'n the pint and stayed thar hard an ' fast . I seen her soon as 't was light , but thar was nothin ' that could be done but build a fire an ' stand an ' watch the poor critters go down . Long toward noon I spied a bundle workin ' in , an ' when it struck I made fast to it with a boat hook an ' found a baby inside an ' alive . My wife an ' I took care o n't , and have been doing so ever since . It was a gal baby and she growed up into a young lady . ` Bout ten years ago we took out papers legally adoptin ' her , an ' so she 's ourn .