her in discouragement, and regardless of their own bedraggled
condition, who should come along but Uncle Gerald.

"Hie! what is the matter?" he called from the road, suspecting the
situation at once.

"Something is wrong with the blamed boat, after all!" Jack shouted
back, impatiently.

Uncle Gerald leaped over the low wall, which separated the highway from
the meadow, and was presently among them, surveying the unfortunate
_Pioneer_, which now did not look at all jolly, but wore a dejected
appearance, one might fancy, as if out of conceit with itself at having
proved such a miserable failure.

"There! I suppose he'll say, 'If you had not been so positive that you
knew all about boatbuilding--if you had come to me for the advice I
promised you,--this would not have happened,'" thought Jack; feeling
that (like the story of the last straw placed upon the overladen
pack-horse, which proved too much for its strength) to be thus reminded
would make the burden of his vexations greater than he could bear.

Uncle Gerald might indeed have moralized in some such fashion, but he
considerately refrained, and only remarked, kindly:

"Do not be disheartened. This is not such bad work for a first
attempt. The boat would look better if it were painted, and that would
fill up a few of the cracks too. As some of the boards are not
dovetailed together, you should have calked the seams with oakum."