oat, laddie, and hold to Dan. Give me a hand to help me in;
for I'm weak and shaking yet. The Lord's will be done, but I never thought
to be sailing the seas in a cockleshell like this," added the good man, as
the boat rocked under his sturdy weight when he sank heavily into his
place.

"I say so, too. Let's hire something better," replied Dud Fielding,
eagerly.

"Thar ain't nothing better or safer than this here 'Sary Ann' along the
shore," said the boat's master, grimly. "I sot every timber in her myself.
She ain't got a crack or a creak in her. I keeled her and calked her, and
I'll lay her agin any of them painted and gilded play-toys to weather the
toughest gale on this here coast. You're as safe in the 'Sary Ann,' Padre,
as if you were in church saying your prayers."

"I'm no Padre," disclaimed Brother Bart, hastily. "I'm only an humble
lay-brother, my good man, that has come to take care of these boys."

"Brother or Father, it's all the same to me," was the gruff answer. "I'm a
hardshell Baptist myself, but I've only good feelings to your kind. My old
captain was one of you, and never a better man walked the deck. Now, duck,
my lads, while I swing out the sail and we'll be off."

The passengers ducked their heads hurriedly while the 'Sary Ann's' boom
swung around. Her tawny sail caught the wind, and she was off with a
light, swift grace that her looks belied.

"Golly, she can clip it!" exclaimed Jim Norris, who had a home on the
Chesapeake and knew all about a boat. "What sort of a rig is she,
anyhow?"

"Mixed like good terbacker," briefly answered the owner, as he leaned back
comfortably at the helm and bit off another chew. "Sloop, skiff,
outrigger, lugger,--she's got the good points of all and none of their
kicks. Not that she ain't got a spirit of her own. Every boat worth
anything hez. Thar's days when she takes the wind and thar's no holdin'
her. You jest have to let her spread her wings to it and go. But, Lord,
let that same wind begin to growl and mutter, let them waves begin to cap
and swell, and the 'Sary Ann' is ready for them, you bet. She will drop
all her fun and frolic, and scud along brave and bare agin the wildest
gale that ever leashed a coast. And them young bloods over yon laugh at
her," continued the 'Sary Ann's' owner, glowering at the gay buildings of
the fashionable "boat club" they were just now passing. "They call her the
Corsair,' which is no Christian name to give an honest boat.