Apples, Ripe and Rosy, Sir - Part 7
Library

Part 7

"It's capital!" volunteered Leo.

And so the matter was finally settled. The _Jolly Pioneer_ was still dest.i.tute of paint, but the boys were in so great a hurry to launch her that they decided not to delay on this account. They carried her down to the creek, and by means of a board slid her into the water. Jack got into the boat first, while the others held the side close to the bank. After him came Rob. Jim and Leo were to follow, but the _Jolly Pioneer_ seemed to have dwindled in size, and did not look half so big or imposing as when in the barn.

"Hold on!" cried Jack. "I'm afraid you will be too heavy. It won't do to crowd at first. We'll just row gently with the current a short distance, and then come back and let you have a turn."

Though disappointed, the little fellows did not demur, but handed him the oars, and waited to see the two boys glide away. But, alas!

though the _Jolly Pioneer_ moved a little, it was not with the freedom and confidence which was to be expected of her in her native element.

She seemed to shrink and falter, "as if afraid of getting wet," as Jim laughingly declared.

"h.e.l.lo! what's that?" exclaimed Rob, as he felt something cold at his feet. He looked down: his shoes were thoroughly wet; the water was coming in through the crevices of the boat.

"Pshaw!" cried Jack. "That is because it is new yet; when the wood is soaked it will swell a bit. Hurry and bail out the water, though."

"But we haven't anything to do it with," returned Rob, helplessly.

"Oh, take your hat, man! A fine sailor you'd make!" Jack answered, setting the example by dipping in his own old felt. Rob's was a new straw yet. Unfortunately for its appearance during the remainder of the summer, he did not think of this, but immediately went to work.

Their efforts were of no use: the _Jolly Pioneer_ sank slowly but surely.

"Don't give up the ship!" cried Jack, melodramatically.

So as neither of the boys attempted to get out, and thus lessen the weight, down, down it went, till it reached the pebbly bed of the creek, and they found themselves--still in the boat to be sure, but standing up to their waists in water. The worst of the mortification was that the little fellows, high and dry on the bank, were choking with laughter, which finally could no longer be suppressed, and broke forth in a merry peal.

"What do you want to stand there guffawing for?" called Jack, ill-naturedly. "Why don't you try to get the oars?"

Thus made to realize that they might be of some a.s.sistance, Jim and Leo waded in heroically, unmindful of the effect upon shoes, stockings, and clothing generally, and rescued the oars, of which poor Jack had carelessly relaxed his hold in the effort to bail out the boat, and which were being carried swiftly away by the current.

In the meantime Jack and Rob succeeded in raising the _Jolly Pioneer_ and hauling her up on the bank. While they stood there, contemplating her in discouragement, and regardless of their own bedraggled condition, who should come along but Uncle Gerald.

"Hie! what is the matter?" he called from the road, suspecting the situation at once.

"Something is wrong with the blamed boat, after all!" Jack shouted back, impatiently.

Uncle Gerald leaped over the low wall, which separated the highway from the meadow, and was presently among them, surveying the unfortunate _Pioneer_, which now did not look at all jolly, but wore a dejected appearance, one might fancy, as if out of conceit with itself at having proved such a miserable failure.

"There! I suppose he'll say, 'If you had not been so positive that you knew all about boatbuilding--if you had come to me for the advice I promised you,--this would not have happened,'" thought Jack; feeling that (like the story of the last straw placed upon the overladen pack-horse, which proved too much for its strength) to be thus reminded would make the burden of his vexations greater than he could bear.

Uncle Gerald might indeed have moralized in some such fashion, but he considerately refrained, and only remarked, kindly:

"Do not be disheartened. This is not such bad work for a first attempt. The boat would look better if it were painted, and that would fill up a few of the cracks too. As some of the boards are not dovetailed together, you should have calked the seams with oak.u.m."

"To be sure!" responded Jack. "How could we have had so little gumption as not to have thought of it?"

"Oak.u.m is hemp obtained from untwisting old ropes," continued Uncle Gerald. "In genuine ship-building, calking consists in crowding threads of this material with great force into the seams between the planks. When filled, they are then rubbed over with pitch, or what is known as marine glue,--a composition of sh.e.l.lac and caoutchouc. It will not be necessary for you to do all this, however. Oak.u.m is often used for packing goods also. I dare say if you hunt around in the barn you will find a little lying about somewhere. But, bless me, you young rogues! Here you are all this time in your wet clothes. Leo, your mother will be worried for fear you may take cold. Run home as fast as you can and get into a dry suit. And you other fellows, come! We'll take the _Jolly Pioneer_ back to the workshop without delay; and then you must hurry and do the same."

IV.

Many days had not pa.s.sed before the boys succeeded in making the punt water-tight. Yet the carpentering still went on at the barn.

"What is all the hammering for now?" asked Mr. Gordon one afternoon.

"I thought the _Jolly Pioneer_ was in splendid trim and doing good service."

"So she is," answered Jack. "But--well, she doesn't quite come up to our expectations; so Rob and I have given her to the little boys. We are building a larger boat for ourselves."

Upon the principle "Never look a gift-horse in the mouth," Jim and Leo were not disposed to find anything amiss with the present. In the first flush of their pride of possession they were quite jubilant.

It was shortly after this that Jim came in to dinner one day, tattooed in a manner which would remind one of a sachem in full Indian war-paint. There was a patch of blue low down on one cheek, a daub of red high up on the other, a tip of chrome-yellow on the end of his nose, and a fair share of all three upon his hands, and the sleeve of his jacket as well.

"Why, my son!" exclaimed Mrs. Gordon, as this vision met her eyes.

"Can't help it, mother,--it won't come off. I've scrubbed and scrubbed!" the little fellow protested, apologetically.

"Plenty of hot water and soap will prove effectual. But you must persevere," she went on, good-naturedly. "But what is the reason of this extraordinary decoration? Do you want to be taken for the 'missing link'?"

Mrs. Gordon was always good friends with her boys. She had a bright, cheery way of talking to them, of entering into their plans. She thoroughly appreciated a joke, even a practical one, when it was not perpetrated at the expense of anybody's feelings. And the lads could always count upon her interest and sympathy. It was not easy to impose upon her, though. "I tell you, if a fellow tries, he is always sure to get the worst of it!" Jim used to say.

"Ah, that is better!" said she, when Jim returned to the dining-room, his face at last restored to its usual sunburnt hue, and shining from the effect of a liberal lather of soap-suds, and his hands also of a comparatively respectable color. "Now, do tell us what you have been attempting."

"Haven't been attempting anything," he mumbled. "Leo and I were painting our boat, that is all. We hurried so as to finish it before dinner. I suppose that is the reason the paint got splashed around a little."

Jim's temper had manifestly been somewhat ruffled by the necessity of repeating the soap and water process. He frowned like a thundercloud.

Mrs. Gordon, however, always had great consideration for a hungry boy.

Without appearing to notice that Jim was out of sorts, she merely remarked, while helping him bountifully to beefsteak: "You have painted the _Jolly Pioneer_? How well she must look! I believe I'll walk over to the barn after dinner and see her."

"Will you really, mother?" he exclaimed, brightening at once.

"Yes, certainly. What color did you choose?"

"Blue, with red and yellow tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs," answered the boy, exultingly.

His mother smiled. She had inferred so. But Jim's ill-humor had vanished like mists before the sun. The next moment he was explaining to her the merits of various kinds of paint, and discussing the question with Jack, in the best possible spirits.

V.

Jack and Rob took counsel with Mr. Sheridan in the construction of the new boat, and very creditable and satisfactory was the result. The ceremonies of the launch were now to be observed with as much formality as if she were the crack yacht of the season,--"Barrin' the traditional bottle of champagne, which it is customary to break over the bows of the new skiff as she plunges into the sea," laughed Uncle Gerald; "and that would not do at all for you, boys."

"No, sir," answered Jack, decidedly. "If it was as cheap and as plentiful as soda-water, we wouldn't have it."

"I am glad to hear you say that," continued Leo's father, warmly. "It is one of the best resolutions to start in life with."

"You know, we have joined the temperance cadet corps which Father Martin is getting up," explained Rob.

"An excellent plan. I had not heard of it," responded the gentleman.

"Persevere, and you will find that by encouraging you in this, Father Martin has proved one of the truest friends you are ever likely to have. However, the old custom of christening a boat, as it is called, may be carried out quite as effectively with a bottle of ginger-pop, which Leo has stowed away somewhere in that basket. It is the part of common-sense to unite true poetry and prose, just as we now propose to combine a picturesque custom with temperance principles. So, boys, hurrah for ginger-pop, say I!"