CHAPTER III
A DISAPPOINTED BOY
Captain Sedley was an early riser. Every morning at sunrise he was abroad in the pleasant grove that bordered the lake near his house. It was a favorite spot, and he had spent a great deal of time and money in bringing Art into communion with Nature in this lovely retreat. He had cleared out the underbrush, made gravel walks and avenues through it, erected a summer-house in the valley, and an observatory on the summit of the hill, which terminated on the lake side in a steep rocky precipice, at whose base the waters rippled.
The worthy shipmaster was a devout man, which was perhaps the reason why he so much enjoyed his morning walk. It was the pleasantest hour of all the day to him,—a fit time for meditation, and for the contemplation of the beautiful scenery that surrounded his habitation. The trees looked greener and the lake more limpid then, when his mind was invigorated by the peaceful slumbers of the preceding night; and there, in his favorite retreat, while all nature was smiling upon him, went up his morning prayer to that beneficent Being who had spared him yet another day, and crowned his life with loving-kindness and tender mercies.
It was the morning of the Fourth of July; and the sounds of the booming cannon and the pealing bells, which the westerly breeze bore up the lake, reminded him of the gratitude he owed to God for the political, social, and religious privileges which had been bequeathed to the country by the fathers of the Revolution. He prayed for his country, that a blessing might always rest upon it.
As he walked along, thus engaged in his inaudible devotions, he heard a footstep behind him. The solitude of his morning walk was seldom disturbed by the intrusion of others. Turning, he recognized the friend of his son.
"You are abroad early, Charles," said he.
"Yes, sir; this is the Fourth of July."
"And you feel like a little patriot on the occasion."
"I feel like having some fun."
"No doubt of it; I am afraid the boys think more of the smoke and noise of the day than they do of the momentous event it commemorates."
"We like to have a good time, and the Fourth of July comes but once a year."
"Probably you will be fully satisfied before night comes."
"I don't know," replied Charles, in a tone and with an expression of countenance which attracted the attention of Captain Sedley.
"You don't know! I thought you were depending upon a good time in the city!"
"Wedidanticipate a great deal of pleasure, but we have given it up."
"Indeed! I have made preparations to take you to Boston."
"We have given it up, sir," repeated Charles.
"Frank?"
"Yes, sir."
"He has not mentioned the fact to me."
"But he intends to do so."
"What is the meaning of all this? I am surprised."
"I knew you would be," said Charles evasively.
"But why have you given it up?"
"Oh! that's a secret."
"Is it, indeed? Then, you really are not going?"
"No, sir."
"I suppose the secret is not to be divulged to me."
"No, sir."
Captain Sedley was not a little perplexed by what he had heard. The proposed excursion had been the topic of conversation for the last fortnight, and Charles and Frank had both manifested the liveliest interest in it. And now that the whole scheme had been abandoned, the anticipated pleasure voluntarily resigned, was strange and incomprehensible. At first he was disposed to believe some more agreeable plan of spending the day had been devised, and it seemed questionable to him whether the plan which must be kept secret could meet his approbation.
"It was Frank's notion, Mr. Sedley," added Charles.
"And you have promised not to tell me?"
"Oh, no, sir! I don't know that Frank would like it if I should do so, though I can't see what harm it would do."
"Of course you must do as you think proper," replied Captain Sedley. "I don't wish you to betray Frank's confidence, unless you think he is doing wrong."
"Nothing wrong, sir."
"Then, why should it be kept secret?"
"I do not know of any reason why it should be. You won't tell Frank if I let the cat out of the bag?" said Charles with a kind of forced laugh.
"Certainly not, if you wish it."
"Well, then, we are not going because we have no money to spend."
"No money! Why, I gave Frank three dollars towards it no longer ago than yesterday, and he had some money before that," replied Captain Sedley, not a little alarmed at the revelation.
"Frank had four dollars and seventy-five cents, and I had two dollars and twenty-five cents, which made seven dollars between us."
"What have you done with it?" asked the kind father, fearful lest his son had been doing wrong.
"Last night we concluded to give our money to the widow Weston, instead of spending it for candy and crackers, and to stay at home instead of going to Boston."
An expression of pleasure lighted up the features of the devoted father. The confession of Charles was a great relief to him.
"Well done, boys!" exclaimed he. "That was noble and generous;" and involuntarily he thrust his hand into his pocket, and drew forth his purse.
"Frank proposed it," said Charles, a gleam of satisfaction lighting up his eye as he beheld the purse.
Captain Sedley held it in his hand a moment, looked searchingly at Charles, and then returned it to his pocket.
"It was a noble deed, Charles; and I had rather hear such a thing of my son than to have all the wealth and honors which the world can give bestowed upon him."
Charles looked disappointed when he saw Captain Sedley restore his purse to his pocket.
"And Frank means to keep it a secret, does he?" continued the delighted father.
"Yes, sir; till to-morrow."
"Very well; I will not mention the fact that you have told me about it."
"Thank you, sir," replied Charles doubtfully.
"And I am glad you told me—that is, if you have not betrayed his confidence;" and Captain Sedley looked rather sharply at Charles.
"Oh, no, sir! I have not."
"Because, when he tells me he does not intend to go, I should otherwise have insisted on knowing the reason."
Charles was already sorry he had said a word about it.
"It was a noble sacrifice, Charles," continued Captain Sedley with much enthusiasm. "If from a worthy motive we sacrifice our inclinations for the good of others, we are always sure of finding our reward—indeed, the act is its own reward."
Charles began to feel a little uneasy. It seemed to him as though Captain Sedley never looked so sharply at him before. What could he mean? He had given all his money to the widow Weston as well as Frank, but Captain Sedley's looks seemed to reprove rather than commend him. He did not feel satisfied with himself, or with Captain Sedley—why, he could not exactly tell; so he happened to think that his father might want him, and he ran home as fast as his legs would carry him.
But his father did not want him, and he walked nervously about the house till breakfast-time. He had no appetite, and everything seemed to go wrong with him.
"Come, Charles," said his mother, "eat your breakfast, or you will get hungry before you get to Boston."
"Not going," answered he sulkily.
"Why not?" asked his father and mother in the same breath.
"Haven't got any money."
"No money! Where is the two dollars I gave you yesterday?" asked Mr. Hardy rather sternly.
"Gave it away."
"You did?"
"Yes, sir."
"To whom?"
"Frank proposed last night to give our money to the widow Weston instead of spending it; and like a great fool as I was, I agreed to it."
"Poor fellow! It is too bad!" added Mrs. Hardy.
"What did he do it for, then?" said Mr. Hardy.
"Of course he didn't want to be behind Frank in doing a good action."
"But he is a long way behind him."
"Why, husband!"
"He has given the woman the money, and played the hypocrite," replied Mr. Hardy, with the most evident expression of disgust in his tones and looks. "He has acted just like a great many folks who put money into the contribution-box for missions and Bible societies, because they think it looks well."
"But, husband, you will give him some more money? You will make up the sum to him which he has given in charity?"
"Given in charity! Given in hypocrisy, you mean! I shall do no such thing."
"Deprive the poor boy of all his anticipated pleasure?" said the indulgent mother.
"The bitter fruit of his own hypocrisy," replied Mr. Hardy.
"You are too bad!"
"No, I am not. If he gave away his money because he thought it was an act of charity that would look well, that would make Frank and his father think better of him, he is rightly served; and I am disposed to shut him up in this room with a good book to teach him better, instead of letting him go to the celebration."
Mr. Hardy was a blunt, honest man, perhaps a little too much inclined to be harsh with his son when he had done wrong. Possibly his views of parental discipline were not altogether correct, but in the main he meant right. He was disgusted at the conduct of Charles, and thought no reasonable penalty too severe for hypocrisy and deceit.
"On the other hand," continued he, "if he had made up his mind to sacrifice his inclination at the call of charity, he would not have felt as he does now. He would have been contented to stay at home. He would have found a nobler satisfaction in the consciousness of having done a good deed than in all the anticipated pleasures of the celebration. It is very plain to me the whole thing was an act of gross hypocrisy;" and Mr. Hardy rose from the table, and left the room.
Charles understood his father's analysis of his conduct. He felt that it was truthful. What would his father have said if he had known his motive in seeking Captain Sedley that morning? He was ashamed of himself, and was glad that his father knew nothing about it.
He had not yet lost all hope that Captain Sedley would reimburse the sums they had given the widow, and take them to Boston. But Frank's father, appreciating the noble sacrifice his son had made, was content that he should receive all the moral discipline to be derived from the act. Therefore he said nothing about it, and went to the city alone.
Charles waited impatiently till ten o'clock; but no one came for him, and he left the house in search of such enjoyment as Rippleton could afford him.
CHAPTER IV
THE FOURTH OF JULY
Charles Hardy was sadly disappointed. He had given his money to the widow Weston in the fullest confidence that it would be refunded to him, and that he should be able to attend the celebration in Boston. When Frank had proposed the charitable plan, his heart told him how good and pleasant it would be to assist the poor woman. His feelings were with his friend in the benevolent design; it was a mere impulse, however, which prompted him to join in the act. He thought of the sacrifice, but the hope of not being actually compelled to make it in the end involuntarily helped him to a decision.
His father had misjudged his motive in calling him hypocritical, for he really felt like doing the noble deed. He felt kindly towards the widow Weston; but his principle was not strong and deep enough to enable him to bear with pleasure, or even with a good grace, the deprivation which his benevolent act had called upon him to suffer.
It was not so with Frank. He had given without the hope of reward; and in staying at home on the Fourth of July, he was perfectly contented, because it was the price he paid for the pleasure of doing good.
Charles, when he found that Captain Sedley did not come for him, hastened over to find Frank. He and Tony Weston were on the beach.
"Hello, Charley! We have been waiting for you," said Frank, as he approached.
"Hello, fellows! What's in the wind?" replied Charles. "What are you going to do to-day?"
"We were just thinking about something."
"Has your father gone to the city, Frank?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing."
"Didn't he look surprised?"
"Not much. He only asked me the reason, and I said I would tell him to-morrow. He didn't say any more about it. Got off nicely, didn't I?"
"First-rate," replied Charles coldly.
"What are you talking about?" asked Tony, to whom, of course, this conversation was unintelligible.
"Tell you some other time, Tony," replied Charles. "Now, what shall we do to-day?"
"I don't know. Here comes Uncle Ben; perhaps he can give us an idea."
Uncle Ben was an old seaman, who had sailed a great many years in the employ of Captain Sedley. He was a rough, blunt old fellow, but so honest, warm-hearted, and devoted to his employer, that when the latter retired from the duties of his profession, he had given him a home on his estate. Uncle Ben was a good sailor, but he had never risen above the place of second mate. Without much ambition to distinguish himself, or to make money, he was perfectly content to live with Captain Sedley, even in a humble capacity.
Frank was an especial favorite of Uncle Ben; and as the old sailor's habits were good, and as his ideas of morality and religion rendered him a safe companion for his son, Captain Sedley permitted and encouraged their intimacy. During the long winter evenings, he listened with the most intense interest and delight to Uncle Ben's descriptions of sea life and of the various countries he had visited.
With the neighbors, and especially the boys in the vicinity, the old sailor was respected, and treated with a great deal of consideration. He was an old man, but he had always maintained an unblemished character. He was full of kindness and sympathy, always manifesting the liveliest regard for the welfare of his friends; and on this account people had got into the way of calling him by the familiarsobriquetof Uncle Ben. It is true he was sometimes rude and rough, but his kind heart atoned for the blemishes in his deportment.
Though Captain Sedley considered Uncle Ben a necessary appendage to his estate, he did not impose upon him the performance of any very arduous duties. He kept a pleasure-boat on the lake, and the old sailor had the entire charge of that. Occasionally he worked a little in the garden, groomed the horses, and did the "chores" about the house; but to use his own expression, he was "laid up in ordinary."
"Here comes Uncle Ben," said Frank.
"I have been lookin' for you, boys. What are you up to here?"
"Nothing, Uncle Ben."
"What do you stand there for, then? Arn't this the Fourth of July?"
"It is, Uncle Ben; and we were thinking what we should do with ourselves. Can't you tell us?"
"That I can, boys; I am goin' across the lake in the boat, and Cap'n Sedley told me I might take you over with me if you'd like to go."
"Hurrah!" cried Charles Hardy, throwing up his cap with delight.
"That we would, Uncle Ben; and right glad we are of the chance to go," replied Frank.
"Tumble up to the boat-house, then," replied Uncle Ben, as he hobbled after the boys, who, delighted with the prospect of a sail on the lake, bounded off like so many antelopes.
The boat was cast off from her moorings in the boat-house, and the boys jumped in.
"You will let me steer, won't you, Uncle Ben?" said Frank.
"Sartin, if you want to. Take the helm."
The old sailor hoisted the sails, and the boat stood out towards the middle of the lake.
"Steady, there," said Uncle Ben; "keep the sails full."
Frank found it was not so easy a matter to steer a sailboat as he had supposed; for one moment he stopped the boat by "throwing her up into the wind," and the next ran her almost on shore by "keeping away."
"Keep her away!" cried Uncle Ben. "That will do; steady as she is. No, no; you are six p'ints off the course now. Luff a little! Hard a port!"
"I don't know what you mean, Uncle Ben; I think you had better steer yourself," said Frank, resigning the helm.
"I think I had."
Under the old sailor's skilful management, the boat soon reached Centre Isle, where they decided to land.
"Now, boys, if you want to celebrate a little, here's half a dozen bunches of crackers," said Uncle Ben, as he took a little package from the locker in the stern of the boat.
"Bravo, Uncle Ben! We will have a nice time."
"Now, if you are of a mind to stay here and have a good time, while I sail over to the other shore to see a sick man, I will give you a good sail when I return."
"Hurrah! we will, Uncle Ben. Have you got any matches?"
"There are matches and a slowmatch in the bundle," replied Uncle Ben, as he pushed off. "Now blaze away, and don't burn your fingers."
"Now for it!" exclaimed Charles, as he lighted the slowmatch. "Here goes the first shot. Hurrah!"
The boys were in high glee. The crackers snapped admirably, and the little forest of Centre Isle reverberated with the reports of their mimic guns. Various expedients were devised to vary the entertainment. Crackers were fired in the water, in the stumps, thrown in the air, or half buried in the wet sand of the beach.
"By gracious! the Bunkers are coming!" exclaimed Tony Weston, as he discerned the raft, navigated by half a dozen boys, approaching the island.
"Let them come," said Charles.
"I had rather they would not come," added Frank.
"What harm will they do?"
"They are quarrelsome and disagreeable."
"Well, they won't be here this half-hour yet; that is one consolation; and we can have a good time till they do get here," returned Charles, as he lighted a whole bunch of the crackers.
"Go it!" cried Tony. "Hurrah! Fourth of July comes but once a year."
"Don't fire them all at once, Charley," interposed Frank.
"That is all the fun of it."
"But the fun won't last long at that rate."
"We must fire them all before the Bunkers get here, or they will take them away from us."
And before the half-hour which Charles had given them to reach the island had expired, their stock was entirely gone, their ammunition exhausted, their noisy patriotism evaporated, and they seated themselves on the grass to watch the approaching raft.
It had been a long and difficult passage, but at last the Bunkers landed.
"Hello, Tony," said Tim, as he leaped ashore; "what are you doing here?"
"Been firing crackers," replied Tony.
"Got any more?"
"I haven't."
"Who has?"
"None of us," replied Frank. "We have fired them all."
"You haven't!" answered Tim with an oath.
"I tell you the truth; don't I, Charley?"
"We had but six bunches, and we have fired them all," added Charles.
"I don't believe it; you long-face fellers will lie twice as quick as one of us," said Tim, walking up to Frank.
"I have no more; I would not lie about it," protested Frank.
"Yes, yer would lie about it too. Now, just hand over some o' them crackers, or I'll duck you in the lake."
Frank made no reply to this rude speech. He heartily wished himself off the island, and out of the company of the newcomers.
"Hit him, Tim!" cried one of the Bunkers.
"Hit him!" repeated the others.
"Want to fight?" said Tim, doubling up his fists, and assuming a pugilistic attitude.
"No, I don't want to fight; I will not fight," replied Frank, retreating backward from the quarrelsome boy.
I don't want to fightI don't want to fight.P.71.
"Oh, you won't fight, eh? Then, you'll git licked," replied Tim, following him.
"I have not injured you; I don't see why you should wish to fight with me."
"You lie! yer have. Didn't yer tell me yer hadn't got no more crackers?"
"I have not."
"Yes, yer have;" and Tim struck Frank a severe blow which made his lip bleed.
"Don't do that again!" cried Tony Weston, his face flushed with indignation.
"What are you going to do about it?" said Tim, turning to Tony.
"I don't want to fight, but I won't see him abused in that shape."
"Never mind him, Tony," interposed Frank. "He didn't hurt me much. Let us go over to the other side of the island."
"No, yer won't!" said Tim Bunker, approaching Frank again, and giving him another blow in the face.
Tony Weston could bear no more; and springing upon the leader of the Bunkers, he struck him several times in rapid succession.
"Don't, Tony, don't," said Frank, trying to separate the combatants.
"Fair play!" cried the Bunkers.
Tony, though younger and lighter than his antagonist, pressed him so severely that he brought him to the ground before Frank and Charles could draw him off. Tim instantly leaped to his feet again.
"Come on!" said he.
"Don't, Tony."
"Mind your own business!" said Tim to Frank as he renewed the assault upon him.
Frank tried to get away; and when Tony and Charles came to his assistance the other Bunkers attacked them, and the fight became general.
"Give it to 'em," shouted Tim, as he struck his opponent several times on the head.
Frank saw that he had nothing to hope for unless he defended himself. He had done his best to prevent the fight, and now he felt justified in resorting to necessary violence to save himself from further injury.
Suddenly springing upon his assailant, he bore him to the ground, and held him there. In the meantime Tony and Charles were getting the worst of it, when a loud shout arrested the attention of the combatants. They all suspended the strife.
"It is Uncle Ben," said Charles.
The Bunkers seemed to understand the character of the old sailor; and taking to their heels, they fled precipitately towards the other end of the island.
"What are you about, boys?" said Uncle Ben sternly, as he landed.
"We could not help it, Uncle Ben; indeed we could not," replied Frank, wiping his bleeding lip, and proceeding to tell the particulars of the whole affair.
"It was my fault; I ought not to have left you here alone. What will your father say?" said Uncle Ben, looking much troubled.
"He will not say anything; I am sure you are not to blame, Uncle Ben."
"Jump into the boat, and let us be off. These boys must be attended to."
Uncle Ben, instead of immediately following the boys into the boat, pushed off the raft from the shore, and attaching a line to it, made fast the other end to the boat.
"What are you going to do, Uncle Ben?" asked Frank.
"I am going to keep them ruffians prisoners for a while," replied he, as the boat shot away from the island with the raft in tow.
"You don't mean to keep them there?"
"I sartinly do, till your father comes home, and he may do what he pleases with 'em. If I had my way, I'd tie 'em up to the grating, and give 'em a dozen apiece. 'Twould sarve 'em right, the meddlesome rascals! I like good boys, but such boys as them is worse nor marines."
"But, Uncle Ben, we can't sail with this raft dragging after us."
"We will make the shore with it, then."
The raft was towed ashore, and the boys had a fine sail the entire length of the lake. As they passed Centre Isle, they could see the Bunkers gathered in a ring, apparently discussing their prospects; and on their return, Tim hailed them, begging to be taken ashore.
"What do you say, boys? Shall we forgive 'em?" asked Uncle Ben.
"Yes!" exclaimed all three.
Uncle Ben landed at the island, and took them in, and during the passage read them a severe lecture on the error of their ways. They gave good attention to him, and seemed very penitent. But no sooner had they got ashore, and out of reach of the old sailor, than they insulted him by hooting his name, coupled with the most opprobrious epithets.
"No use to be easy with 'em. The better you use 'em the worse they sarve you," said Uncle Ben, as he hauled the boat into its house.
CHAPTER V
THE CLUB BOAT
For a fortnight the Bunkers did not venture to approach the residence of Captain Sedley. The raft, which Uncle Ben had been instructed to break up, was removed some distance down the lake before he had time to execute his orders. After a few days the memorable incident of the "Fourth" ceased to be talked about, and was finally forgotten.
Two weeks passed away. Uncle Ben had been absent from home three days. He went to Boston with his employer, who returned without him. To Frank's earnest inquiries as to where he was, his father only replied that he would return soon.
It was after nine o'clock in the evening on the third day when he returned. Frank teased him to tell where he had been all the time; but Uncle Ben only looked strange and mysterious, and would not gratify his curiosity.
Frank got up the next morning quite early, and walked over to the widow Weston's with Charles. On their return, a new object on the lake attracted the attention of the latter.
"Hello, Frank! what's that?" exclaimed he. "By gracious! it is a new boat!"
"So it is; and what an odd-looking craft!"
Both boys ran with all their might down to the little beach by the road to get a nearer view of the strange boat.
"My eyes! look at it!" ejaculated the wondering Charles.
"What can it mean? It wasn't there last night," said Frank.
"No; and it looks like the boats we read about in the fairy books. I shouldn't wonder if she dropped down out of the clouds. Isn't she a beauty?"
"That she is! And how long and slender she is!"
"One, two, three—twelve places for the oars," cried Charles.
"Uncle Ben knows something about her, I believe!" exclaimed Frank, as a beam of intelligence penetrated his mind.
"Just twig the bow! 'Tis as sharp as a razor."
"And there is her name on each side of it—Zephyr! What a pretty name it is!"
"So it is. That boat's a ripper, let me tell you!" said Charles enthusiastically.
"A what?" asked Captain Sedley, coming down from a thicket in the grove close by, where he had been enjoying the astonishment of the boys.
"O father!" exclaimed Frank, "whose is she? Where did she come from? What is she for?"
"One question at a time, Frank. But before I answer any of them, let me say a word to you, Charles. You said she was a 'ripper' just now."
"That wasn't any harm, was it?"
"Not a very elegant word, though. I will warrant you cannot find it in the dictionary."
"I merely meant that it was a very fine boat."
"I presume you meant nothing wrong; but such expressions do not add anything to the force of language, and using them may induce a bad habit. If you associated with boys accustomed to use profanity, this desire to use strong words would lead you into the practice."
"I never thought of that."
"Just now you said, 'By gracious!' Such phrases are apt to induce profanity, and are no addition whatever to the force of your remark."
"I don't know that they are."
"You were very much surprised at seeing this boat."
"We were, indeed."
"Frank, it is yours," added Captain Sedley, turning with a smile to his son.
"Mine, father!" exclaimed Frank, clapping his hands.
"It is yours, and of course your friends will derive as much pleasure from its use as you will yourself."
"But where did it come from, father?"
"Two months ago, when the Bunkers first began to amuse themselves with the raft, the idea of procuring it occurred to me. I saw that you and Charles both had a great desire to join in their sports. For obvious reasons I could not permit Frank to do so; but I immediately resolved that you should have the means of enjoying yourselves on the lake in safety and comfort, and I ordered this boat to be built."
"Isn't she a beauty!" exclaimed Charles.
"But, Charles, do you remember what you said a fortnight ago?"
"No, sir."
"When you were talking here on the evening before the Fourth of July?"
"I said a great many things, I suppose, and some of them not quite so bright as they might have been," replied Charles, wondering what weakness of his was now to be exposed.
"Your remark was to the effect that boys who were obliged to mind their parents were the losers for their obedience."
"But I did not mean so, sir."
"You meant some of it, Charles. You wanted to go on the raft, and you felt at that moment as though it was a disagreeable duty to obey your parents. But I think it was only a momentary feeling."
"I am sure it was, sir."
"Let this beautiful boat, then, convince you that obedience to your parents is your duty, and ought to be your pleasure."
"How came it here, father?" asked Frank. "I am completely mystified."
"Uncle Ben has been in Boston the past three days, procuring its outfit; and yesterday it was brought up to the village on the railroad."
"That's why you would not tell me where he was."
"It is; I thought I would surprise you. Last night after dark Uncle Ben and I rowed it up from the village."
"Wasn't we surprised, though?" added Frank.
"I'll bet we were," replied Charles.
"What, Charles, more of your inelegant speeches?" said Captain Sedley.
Charles blushed.
"I didn't mean to; I will try and break myself of that habit."
"Do; it is a foolish practice."
"But, father, what shall we do with her? Has she got any sails?" asked Frank.
"No, my son. It is what is called a club boat. It is pulled by twelve oars. In Boston, and a great many other places, a number of young men form themselves into a little society for the purpose of amusing themselves with these boats. You perceive it is built very long, narrow, and sharp, so as to attain the greatest speed; and rowing it is a very healthy and pretty exercise, as well as the most exciting amusement."
"I should think it would be; but, father, can't we get into it, so as to see what it is like?"
"Not now. To-day is Wednesday, and this afternoon Uncle Ben shall give you your first lesson in rowing."
"Can we row it alone?" asked Frank, looking perplexed as he saw the twelve row-locks.
"No, Frank; you must form a society, a club, as they do in the city. You must have thirteen boys; twelve to row, and one to steer."
"Hurrah! won't that be fine!" exclaimed Charles with enthusiasm.
"But, boys, you must be careful whom you invite to join the club. We do not want any bad boys—especially none of the Bunkers."
"Not one of them," added Charles promptly.
"Tony shall be one," said Frank.
"Tony is a good boy," replied Captain Sedley.
"Fred and Sam Harper," suggested Charles.
"They are very well; but I shall leave the selection of the club to you, boys," continued Captain Sedley. "I am going to have a boat-house built by the side of the other for your boat, and in one end of it will be a room for your meetings."
"That will be nice!" ejaculated Charles. "Won't we have the fun!"
"You must make a kind of constitution; that is, some regulations for the government of the club."
"You will make those for us, won't you, father?" said Frank.
"No; I prefer that you should make them yourselves."
"We don't know how."
"I can tell you something about it. In the first place, you will want a clerk and a coxswain."
"A what?" asked both boys together.
"A coxswain. When you sail he steers the boat, and has the command. He is, in fact, the captain. When you hold a meeting, he will be the chairman."
"Who will be coxswain?" asked Charles, with a look of inquiry at Frank.
"You will choose him by vote, as well as the clerk," answered Captain Sedley.
"But the regulations, father?"
"You must have no profanity, no lying, no vulgar language; and no boy must be permitted to neglect his school, or his duties at home, on account of the boat."
"We can fix all that," said Charles.
"I intend that this club shall be a society for the promotion of your moral welfare, as well as a means of amusement. In your club-room I am going to place a library for your use; and next winter, when the lake is frozen over, you can meet there for amusement and instruction."
"That will be first-rate," added Charles.
"What time shall we meet this afternoon, father?"
"Two o'clock, say. Now go to your breakfasts, and get ready for school. Be careful and not let the pleasure you anticipate in the boat interfere with your studies," said Captain Sedley, as the boys bounded away to their respective homes.
Frank and Charles, on their way to school, decided upon the boys whom they should invite to join the club; and in the course of the forenoon they were asked to assemble on the beach, without being told the precise object of the meeting.
The boys' heads were so full of the club boat that it required a great deal of courage to enable them to study in school that day; but so closely had Captain Sedley connected the idea of improvement with the club, that they struggled hard, and succeeded in getting "perfect lessons."
CHAPTER VI
THE EMBARKATION
At half-past one the members of the embryo boat club were on the beach. Those who were not informed before their arrival of the nature of the "time" in store for them were in ecstasies when they beheld the beautiful boat reposing so lightly and gracefully on the tranquil bosom of the clear lake. None of them had ever seen such a fairy bark before, and it more than realized their idea of the airy and graceful craft of which they had read and thought.
Uncle Ben had not arrived yet; but he had evidently been there during the forenoon, for the boat had been taken from her moorings, and was now secured by a line attached to a stake driven in the sand.
The boys, as a matter of course, were very impatient to take their first lesson in rowing, and to skim over the glassy lake in the splendid barge before them.
"Where is Uncle Ben?" asked Charles, hardly able to control his impatience.
"He will be here soon; it is not two o'clock yet," answered Frank.
"Don't be in a hurry, Charley," added Tony, who had seated himself upon the sand, and considering the exciting circumstances of the day, demeaned himself like a philosopher.
"I am so anxious to get a peep at the inside of her," replied Charles, as he took hold of the line that held the boat, and pulled her towards the shore. "Don't you think he will be here before two o'clock?"
"I don't know. I wouldn't touch her, Charley," said Frank.
"See how she shoots ahead! I scarcely pulled at all on the line."
The light bark, under the impulse of Charles's gentle pull, darted to the shore, throwing her sharp bow entirely out of the water.
"Don't, Charley; you will scrape the paint from her keel on the sand," interposed Frank. "She is built very lightly, and my father says she cost him four hundred dollars."
"I won't hurt her. Just twig the cushioned seats in the stern, and see all the brass work round the sides! My eyes, how it shines!" exclaimed Charles, holding up both hands with delight.
"Just see the oars!" added Fred Harper.
"And there are the flags rolled up in the stern," said another boy.
"Won't we have a glorious time!" continued Charles, as he placed one foot on the bow of the boat.
"Don't get in, Charley; that isn't fair," interposed Tony Weston.
"It won't do any harm;" and Charles stepped into the boat.
Half a dozen other boys, carried away by the excitement of the moment, followed his example, and jumped in after him. Charles led the way to the stern of the boat, walking over the seats, or, to speak technically, the "thwarts."
The light boat, which had been drawn far out of the water, and which now rested her keel upon the bottom, having no support upon the sides, rolling over on her gunnel, and tumbled the boys into the lake.
"There! Now see what you have done!" cried Tony, springing up, and pushing the boat away from the shore.
"Avast, there! What are you about?" exclaimed Uncle Ben, hobbling down to the beach as fast as his legs would carry him.
"You are too bad, Charley!" said Frank. "You will spoil all our fun by your impatience."
"I didn't think she would upset so easily," replied Charles.
"You ought not to have meddled with her."
"That you hadn't, youngster," said Uncle Ben. "Don't you know a boat can't stand alone when the keel is on the sand?"
The old sailor spoke pretty sternly, and Charles was abashed by his reproof.
"Forgive me, Uncle Ben; I didn't mean any harm."
"I know you didn't, Charley; but you must be careful always. Live and larn," replied Uncle Ben, mollified by the penitence of the boy.
"She won't tip over again, will she?" asked Frank.
"Not if you handle her right; run over to that rock in the grove, where the water is deep, and I will bring her over."
Uncle Ben unfastened the line, and wading out a little way into the lake, jumped in, and rowed over to the rock.
"Now, my lads, you must do everything in order. We don't want any hurrying and tumbling about. When you get into the boat, step easy, and keep quiet in your places," said Uncle Ben, as he brought the boat alongside the rock. "Fend off, there! Don't let her rub!"
Tony, who was by far the coolest and most reliable boy of the party, took hold of the boat, and prevented her from striking the rock.
"Now, Tony, you shall be bow oarsman; that is, you shall pull the foremost oar. You may get in first, and take that boat-hook forward. Stop, no more of you yet; keep perfectly cool!"
Tony obeyed, and took his station in the bow with the boat-hook in his hand.
"Now hook on the rock with it, and keep her steady. There, that will do," continued Uncle Ben, taking another boat-hook and steadying the stern. "Now, one at a time, and each of you take one of the seats."
The boys were so impatient that they could not wait to get in as the old sailor directed; and all huddled in together, to the imminent peril of their lives and the boat.
"Avast! that won't do! Back, all of you!" roared Uncle Ben, provoked by their awkwardness. "Now, Frank, call them by name, one at a time, and let each take his place before you call another."
This plan worked better. Uncle Ben was a firm advocate of discipline, and insisted on having everything done in "shipshape order," as he styled it. He had been in the United States Navy, and was familiar with its discipline. The boys were all seated; and finding that their hurry and impatience only retarded their progress, they learned to keep still, and wait till the old sailor told them what to do.
They had all seated themselves on one side of the boat, and the consequence was it nearly tipped her over.
"Now, my lads, trim ship. You are all over on the starboard side," said Uncle Ben, as he pushed the boat away from the rock.
The boys, in their eagerness to render prompt obedience, all passed over to the opposite ends of the thwarts, and the boat instantly careened upon the other side.
"Avast there! Now stop a bit," continued the old sailor. "I am going to number you all. I don't know your names, all of you; so just mind the figgers. Tony, you are number one; say it."
"One," shouted Tony, with a pleasant laugh.
"The boy on the next seat."
"Two."
"Stop a bit; we have got one too many. One of you must be coxswain. Cap'n Sedley says you must choose him by vote. Who shall be your coxswain, boys?"
"Frank Sedley," shouted all the boys together.
"Good! it is a unanimous vote," said Uncle Ben. "You desarve the honor, Frank; take a seat in the starn-sheets. Next boy, number."
"Three."
"Next."
"Four."
"Five."
The boys all numbered, with the exception of Frank Sedley, who was not to pull an oar.
"Now, my lads, remember your numbers—don't touch the oars yet. You have got a good deal to larn fust," continued Uncle Ben.
"We shall be good scholars," said Charles.
"I hope you will. Now, Tony, take your place on the starboard side, opposite the row-lock over to port."
Tony, at a venture, seated himself on the forward thwart.
"Avast! that's the larboard side."
"But, Uncle Ben, we don't know the meaning of those words," added Frank.
"No more you don't," answered Uncle Ben, hitching up his trousers and laughing good-naturedly. "You can larn, though, if you pay 'tention."
"We will try."
"This side, then,"—and the old sailor laid his hand upon the right-hand side of the boat, looking towards the bow,—"this is the starboard side."
"The right-hand side is the starboard side," repeated several of the boys.
"Number five," said Uncle Ben, calling upon Charles Hardy, "which is the starboard side?"
"This," replied Charles, pointing tohisright.
"No, 'tain't."
"But you said the right-hand side."
"No, I didn't; I saidthisside," replied the old sailor, laughing at the boy's perplexity. "It is the right-hand side lookin' for'ad. Do you understand it now?"
"We do," shouted the boys together.
"Now, who can tell me which is the larboard side?"
"The left looking forward," replied several.
"Good, my hearties; and larboard and port mean the same thing. 'Port' is more used now nor larboard."
"We all understand it," said Charles Hardy.
"You'll forget it, ten to one, before to-morrow."
"No, we won't."
"Now, Tony, take the starboard side. That's it. Number two, the port side. That's right. Number three, the starboard."
The boys had grown more tractable, and Uncle Ben succeeded in getting them all in their proper places. The boat thus trimmed sat even on the water, and the boys were delighted with this change in her position. Most of them were wholly unaccustomed to boats, and the one-sided posture gave them a sensation of uneasiness; but while they saw Uncle Ben and some of the others feeling so secure, they did not like to acknowledge their timidity.
"When you take the oars—not yet—don't be in a hurry. Do everything calmly," said Uncle Ben. "You'll never larn anything if you don't go to work shipshape."
"But what shallIdo?" asked Frank. "There are only twelve oars."
"Seat yourself square in the starn, my boy."
Frank obeyed, and Uncle Ben shipped the rudder. Instead of a tiller, there was a short piece of wood, elegantly carved and gilded, which extended crossways with the boat. At each end of it was fastened a line, by means of which the rudder was moved.
"Take the tiller-ropes, Frank, and keep quiet till we get ready to give way," said Uncle Ben, as he seated himself by the side of the young coxswain.
"We are all ready," interposed Charles Hardy, by way of hurrying the old sailor's movements.
The old man was not to be hurried; and when he saw what an excitement the boys were in, he made them sit still, and not speak a word for two minutes.