"Can't you write a will, Dock?"

"Me! No. I don't know how. You must make it strong, or they'll break
it, you know. Better send for Squire Saunders, and have it done right."

"Squire Saunders!" exclaimed the invalid. "What'll he charge?"

"O, five dollars, perhaps."

"Five dollars! What jest for writin' a little or sunthin?"

"Perhaps he won't charge you more than three."

"I shan't give no three dollars, nuther. I can't afford it. I'm
e'enamost stripped of everything now."

The will was not made, and Dock left the house, promising to call again
in the afternoon.

CHAPTER VI.

THE STARRY FLAG.

Levi Fairfield, in happy ignorance of the misfortune which had befallen
his uncle, headed The Starry Flag towards the mansion of Mr. Watson.
This was to be a great day with him, and he was filled with hope and
exultation.

The Starry Flag was a capital boat, but Levi had long been beset by an
ambition to sail something larger. This desire was about to be
realized, for Mr. Watson, always a lover of the sea, had contracted for
a yacht of eighty tons, at the establishment of a celebrated builder in
the city. She was to be ready by the 1st of June, but she was not
completely stored and furnished till the 10th.

Mr. Watson had remained in the city over night, and was to sail in the
yacht for his summer home the next morning--on the day that Levi missed
falling into the chasm. As the wind was fair, and tolerably fresh, the
young skipper thought she would arrive by noon, and he was to take the
ladies round as far as Eastern Point, to give her a welcome to the
waters of the Cape.

Levi was to be the commander of the yacht, and he was every way
qualified for the position. He had studied navigation, could take an
observation, and do all the problems required of a thorough sailing
master. On the deck of a vessel he was in his element, and there was
not a point in navigation or seamanship with which he was not familiar.
He could not only hand, reef, and steer, but he could knot and splice,
parcel and serve, as neatly and as skilfully as a veteran man-of-war's
man. He was interested in such matters, and had spent hours and hours
in making short and long splices, eye splices, Turk's heads, and other
parts of rigging, until he was an adept in the art.

Bessie had been the prime mover in this enterprise. She insisted upon
having a craft in which the whole family could go off for a month, and
be almost as comfortable as