All Adrift.

by Oliver Optic.

PREFACE.

"All Adrift" is the first volume of a new set of books, to be known as "THE BOAT-BUILDER SERIES." The story contains the adventures of a boy who is trying to do something to help support the family, but who finds himself all adrift in the world. He has the reputation of being rather "wild," though he proves that he is honest, loves the truth, and is willing to work for a living. Having been born and brought up on the sh.o.r.e of Lake Champlain, he could not well avoid being a boatman, especially as his father was a pilot on a steamer. Nearly all the scenes of the story are on the water; and the boy shows not only that he can handle a boat, but that he has ingenuity, and fertility of resource.

The narrative of the hero's adventures contained in this volume is the introduction to the remaining volumes of the series, in which this boy and others are put in the way of obtaining a great deal of useful information, by which the readers of these books are expected to profit.

Captain Royal Gildrock, a wealthy retired shipmaster, has some ideas of his own in regard to boys. He thinks that one great need of this country is educated mechanics, more skilled labor. He has the means to carry his ideas into practice, and actively engages in the work of instructing and building up the boys in a knowledge of the useful arts. He believes in religion, morality, and social and political virtue. He insists upon practice in addition to precept and theory, as well in the inculcation of the duties of social life as in mechanics and useful arts.

If the first volume is all story and adventure, those that follow it will not be wholly given up to the details of the mechanic arts. The captain has a steam-yacht; and the hero of the first story has a fine sailboat, to say nothing of a whole fleet of other craft belonging to the nabob. The boys are not of the tame sort: they are not of the humdrum kind, and they are inclined to make things lively. In fact, they are live boys, and the captain sometimes has his hands full in managing them.

With this explanation, the author sends out the first volume with the hope that this book and those which follow it will be as successful as their numerous predecessors in pleasing his young friends--and his old friends, he may add, as he treads the downhill of life.

DORCHESTER, Ma.s.s., AUG. 21, 1882.

ALL ADRIFT;

OR,

THE GOLDWING CLUB.

CHAPTER I.

A GROWLING Pa.s.sENGER.

"Boy, I told you to bring me some pickles," said Major Billcord, a pa.s.senger on a Lake Champlain steamer, to a boy in a white jacket, who was doing duty as a waiter at dinner in the cabin.

"Yes, sir; and I brought them," replied Dory Dornwood, as he took the dish of pickles almost from under the pa.s.senger's nose, and placed it quite under his nose.

"No impudence to me, boy!" exclaimed Major Billcord, as he bestowed a savage glance at the young waiter.

"I beg your pardon, sir: I did not mean to be impudent," replied Dory meekly.

"Waiter, bring me a piece of roast beef rare. Now, mind, I want it rare," said the pa.s.senger sitting next to the major.

"Yes, sir; in a moment, sir," added Dory, to indicate that he heard the order.

"When I send you for any thing, you should put it where I can see it,"

added Major Billcord sternly.

"I thought I put the pickles where you could see them," answered Dory, as he started for the pantry to obtain the roast beef rare.

"Here, boy, stop!" called the major. "Where are you going now? Bring me the boiled onions, and I want them well done."

"Yes, sir," replied the waiter, as he darted after the onions, and returned with them in an instant; for he found the dish in another part of the table. "The boiled onions," he added, as he placed them beside the snappy pa.s.senger's plate, so that he should be sure to see them.

"Isn't it about time for my roast beef, waiter?" asked the next gentleman.

"In a moment, sir."

"These onions are not half done, boy!" exclaimed the major. "I told you to bring me onions well done, and not raw onions."

"I don't cook them, sir; and I brought such as I find on the table,"

pleaded Dory, as he started to fill the order of the next pa.s.senger.

"Here! come back, boy! I want boiled onions well done, and I don't want any impudence," snarled the major.

Dory brought another dish of onions, and placed them by the side of the gentleman's plate. He repeated the order of the next pa.s.senger to a.s.sure him that he had not forgotten it, and was in the act of rushing for it, when Major Billcord broke out again.

"These onions are no better than the others: they are not half cooked.

Now go to the steward, and tell him I want boiled onions well done."

"Get my roast beef first," added the next pa.s.senger.

"Here, waiter! bring me a sidebone of chicken, some green pease, string-beans, pickled beets, boiled cabbage, a plate of macaroni, and any other vegetables you may happen to have; and don't be all day about it," said the pa.s.senger on the other side of Major Billcord.

"In a minute, sir," replied Dory.

"Go to the steward at once, and tell him what I want," stormed the major.

"Waiter, bring me a plate of roast stuffed veal, with a specimen of all the vegetables on the bill of fare. Don't leave out any. If you leave out any of them, I will travel by railroad the next time I go north,"

shouted another pa.s.senger.

Dory did not wait to hear any more. He was not a waiter of great experience, and he found that the confusion of orders was rather trying to him. He went to the carving-table, delivered the message of Major Billcord to the steward, and called for the orders he had received.

Before he had his tray ready, the steward brought him the onions; and he carried them with the other articles to the table.

"Your onions, sir," said he, as he placed the little dish where the irate gentleman could not help seeing them.

While Dory was serving the other pa.s.sengers, whose orders he had taken, and while half a dozen others were clamorous for every item on the bill of fare, Major Billcord thrust his fork into one of the odoriferous vegetables brought to him.

"These are not a whit better done than the others were!" exclaimed Major Billcord, dropping his knife and fork in disgust. "What do you mean, boy, by bringing me such onions as these?"

"The steward gave me those onions for you, sir," pleaded Dory, who was certainly doing his best to please all the pa.s.sengers at the dinner table; and the young waiter had already learned that this was not one of the easiest tasks in the world.

"Don't tell me that, you young rascal! You haven't delivered my message to the steward," growled the irate pa.s.senger.

"Yes, sir: I told him just what you wanted, and he sent the dish of onions to you, sir," Dory explained.

"The steward would never have sent me such onions as these. You haven't been to him as I told you. You are an impudent young cub, and you are no more fit for a waiter than you are for a steamboat captain."

"I brought the onions the steward sent; and it isn't my fault that they are not right," said Dory gently, though he did not always speak and act in just that way.