There were a goodly number of shareholders in the projected vessel; some
among the most substantial men in the vicinity. Zephaniah Pennel had
invested there quite a solid sum, as had also our friend Captain
Kittridge. Moses had placed therein the proceeds of his recent voyage,
which enabled him to buy a certain number of shares, and he secretly
revolved in his mind whether the sum of money left by his father might
not enable him to buy the whole ship. Then a few prosperous voyages, and
his fortune was made!

He went into the business of building the new vessel with all the
enthusiasm with which he used, when a boy, to plan ships and mould
anchors. Every day he was off at early dawn in his working-clothes, and
labored steadily among the men till evening. No matter how early he
rose, however, he always found that a good fairy had been before him and
prepared his dinner, daintily sometimes adding thereto a fragrant
little bunch of flowers. But when his boat returned home at evening, he
no longer saw her as in the days of girlhood waiting far out on the
farthest point of rock for his return. Not that she did not watch for it
and run out many times toward sunset; but the moment she had made out
that it was surely he, she would run back into the house, and very
likely find an errand in her own room, where she would be so deeply
engaged that it would be necessary for him to call her down before she
could make her appearance. Then she came smiling, chatty, always
gracious, and ready to go or to come as he requested,--the very
cheerfulest of household fairies,--but yet for all that there was a
cobweb invisible barrier around her that for some reason or other he
could not break over. It vexed and perplexed him, and day after day he
determined to whistle it down,--ride over it rough-shod,--and be as free
as he chose with this apparently soft, unresistant, airy being, who
seemed so accessible. Why shouldn't he kiss her when he chose, and sit
with his arm around her waist, and draw her familiarly upon his
knee,--this little child-woman, who was as a sister to him? Why, to be
sure? Had she ever frowned or scolded as Sally Kittridge did when he
attempted to pass the air-line that divides man from womanhood? Not at
all. She had neither blushed nor laughed, nor ran away. If he kissed
her, she took it with the most matter-of-fact composure; if he passed
his arm around her, she let it remain with unmoved calmness; and so
somehow he did t