like the mile-stones of a nightmare, steadily to move with me. The
water, bronzed by the low sun, poured mightily along, and there hung my
boat, glued to its white reflection.

As I struggled there, the great sloops and schooners rustling by with
the ebb, and eclipsing an instant the June sunset, gave me a miserable
impression of careless unfriendliness. I had made friends with them all
my life, and this evening, while I was drifting down-stream, they had
been willing enough to give me a tow, and to send bluff, good-humored
replies to my boyish hails. Now they rushed on, each chasing the golden
wake of its forerunner, and took no thought of me, straining at my oar,
apart. I grew dispirited, quite to the point of a childish despair.

Of course it was easy enough to land, leave my boat, and trudge home,
but that was a confession of defeat not to be thought of. Two things
only my father required of me--manliness and truth. My pretty little
skiff--the "Aladdin," I called it--he had given to me as a test of my
manhood. I should be ashamed of myself to go home and tell him that I
had abdicated my royal prerogative of taking care of myself, and
pulling where I would in a boat with a keel. I must take the "Aladdin"
home, or be degraded to my old punt, and confined to still water.

The alternative brought back strength to my arms. I threw off the
ominous influence. I leaned to my sculls. The clammy black rocks began
deliberately to march by me down-stream. I was making headway, and the
more way I made, the more my courage grew.

Presently, as I battled round a point, I heard a rustle and a rush of
something coming, and the bowsprit of a large sloop glided into view
close by me. She was painted in stripes of all colors above her green