"Me? I'm never happy."

"Why, I'd be happy all the time if I had a boat like this."

"Ye would? Well, take the tiller, then, while I fill me pipe."

A new thrill of joy swept through Rod's entire being as he clutched the
wooden handle and moved it to left or right as the captain ordered.
Never did any commander in charge of the largest vessel feel greater
pride than did the young helmsman. His face glowed, and his eyes
sparkled with excitement, while the breeze tossed his wavy hair.

Captain Josh watched him out of the corner of his eye as he puffed away
at his short-stemmed pipe.

"Ye'll make a good sailor some day, lad," he remarked. "Ye've got the
eye fer sich business."

"That's what I'm going to be," was the reply. "I'll be a captain, and
have a big ship of my own. I'm going to call her the _Roaring Bess_,
and I'll take you along with me."

"I'd like to go well enough," and the old man's gaze wandered off into
space, "but I guess my sailin' days'll be over by that time. But here
we are back home again. Betsey'll be waitin' dinner fer us."

And what a dinner that was! Rod remembered it long afterwards, and how
Mrs. Britt sat there smiling upon him, and urging him to have "just one
more piece of pie, and another cruller." Never before had he felt so