on't think it's a very pretty name," I replied.

"You wait till you get acquainted with that wagon, and you
will say it's the best name in the world, whether it's pretty or
not. You don't know that wagon yet. The tongue is spliced, the
whiffletrees are loose, the reach is cracked, the box is tied
together with a rope, the springs creak, the wheels wabble, lean
different ways, and never follow one another."

"Do they all turn in the same direction?" I asked.

"I don't believe they do. It would be just like one to turn
backward while the other three were going forward."

"We'll call our craft the Rattletrap, then. Good-night."

"Good-night," said Jack; and we parted, each to dream of our
approaching cruise.

[Illustration: Preparations]

In a week we were busy getting ready to start. I found, when
I looked over the wagon as it stood back of the cheese-factory,
that it was much as Jack had described it, only I noticed that
the seat as well as the springs creaked, and that a corner was
broken off the dash-board. But we set to work upon it with a
will. We tightened up the nuts and screws all over it, and wound
the broken pole with wire. We nailed together the box so that the
rope could be taken off, and oiled the creaking springs. We had
no trouble in finding a top, as half the people in the country
had come in wagons provided with covers only a year or so before.
We got four bows and attached them to the box, one at each end,
and the other two at equal distances between. These bows were
made of hard-wood, and were a quarter of an inch thick and an
inch and a half wide. They ran up straight on either side for two
or three feet, and then rounded over, like a croquetwicket, being
high enough so that as we stood upright in the wagon-box our
heads would just nicely clear them. Over this skeleton we
stretched our white canvas cover, and tied it down tightly along
the sides. This made what we called the cabin. There was an ample
flap in front, which could be let down at night and fastened back
inside during the day. At the rear end the cloth folded around,
and was drawn together with a "puckering-string," precisely like
a button-bag. By drawing the string tightly this back end could
be entirely closed up; or the string could be let out, and the
opening made any size wanted. After the cover was adjusted we
stood off and admired our work.

"Looks like an elephant on wheels," said Jack.

"Or an old-fash