jected definitely to
Grace taking a ride in the little dory that raced behind. Grace thought
such a feat would be a genuine lark, but Captain Mae reminded her that
the Sandy Hook Bay was not the placid little Glimmer Lake she had been
accustomed to sporting upon.

Down in the cabin a real tea was served at four o'clock, and if
automobiling is conducive to real appetites, sailing leads to the port
of hunger-pangs; and as an alleviative Orange Pekoe, cheese, cookies,
lettuce sandwiches, with peanut butter and other conserves, can be
heartily recommended, according to the Log of the Blowell, as inscribed
that day by the True Treds.

"All hands on the deck," ordered Cleo, in mock severity, when cracker
tins and tea cups were being worked to the point of refined cruelty.

"Aye, aye, sir," replied Grace, being first to reach deck.

"Shall we sing 'Starboard watch ahoy!' or 'Little Jack'?" Margaret
asked.

"No, let's sing 'Sailing!'" suggested Julia.

"Who knows any of the words?" inquired Louise. "The title sounds
appropriate, but it would take more words to fill out a tune!"

"Starboard watch ahoy! Starboard watch ahoy! And who can feel-e-e-eel,
while on the blue the vessel ke-e-ell." This was Cleo's contribution
done in all sharps, and as Louise warned them, the title wouldn't do for
a girl-sized song.

"No, that's too old," objected Helen. "It's out of print. Try
'Sailing.'"

"Sailing, sailing over the stormy sea,"

"The second line is just the same and ought to end in B"

"Full many a stormy wind shall blow o-o-oh when"

"Jack comes home--again!"

Thus ended Helen, and as a song "Sailing" was considered a first-rate
joke.

"Now," said Margaret, in a plain everyday speaking voice, "I'm not going
to spoil my 'Little Jack,' with any such parody as that. I'm going to
recite him."

"Hear! Hear!" ordered Captain Mae.

"I'm not sure I can recall all of it, but it's a pretty story--so--"

"Yes, Margy, a story is better than a song, tell it," begged Louise,
settling down deeper in the leather cushions.

"But I may have to hum it, to get in rhyme," soliloquized the narrator.

"Yes, that's better still," cut in Cleo. "Give us the hum."

"Do be quiet, girls, or we will get neither song nor hum nor story,"
said Helen. "Go ahead, Margaret. Tell it your own way, as they say in
court trials."

Again Margaret was directed to take up her Little Jack.

"It begins by calling the mates to come around-around-around