Come , sit down . It wo n't take long to stay an hour . '' The wind was off shore , and only broke the sea 's surface into long , silvery ripples , and sent sheeny shadows flying out across it , from every point and headland , like transparent wings . The dusk was hanging a curtain of violet gloom over the sand dunes and the headlands where gulls were huddling . The sky was faintly filmed over with scarfs of silken vapor . Cloud fleets rode at anchor along the horizons . An evening star was watching over the bar . `` Is n't that a view worth looking at ? '' said Captain Jim , with a loving , proprietary pride . `` Nice and far from the market-place , ai n't it ? No buying and selling and getting gain . You do n't have to pay anything -- all that sea and sky free -- ` without money and without price . ' There 's going to be a moonrise purty soon , too -- I 'm never tired of finding out what a moonrise can be over them rocks and sea and harbor . There 's a surprise in it every time . '' They had their moonrise , and watched its marvel and magic in a silence that asked nothing of the world or each other . Then they went up into the tower , and Captain Jim showed and explained the mechanism of the great light . Finally they found themselves in the dining room , where a fire of driftwood was weaving flames of wavering , elusive , sea-born hues in the open fireplace . `` I put this fireplace in myself , '' remarked Captain Jim . `` The Government do n't give lighthouse keepers such luxuries . Look at the colors that wood makes .
If you 'd like some XXXXX for your fire , Mistress Blythe , I 'll bring you up a load some day .
Jim Nice driftwood evening gulls hour keepers moonrise scarfs wavering