"Why, it was only yesterday, papa, that you praised it so!"

"Did I? H'm! Well, well, now for the boat."

"The boat, papa?"

"Certainly, Sophy; we are going to call at Kit's House."




CHAPTER VIII.


HOW A CREW, THAT WOULD SAIL ON A WASHING-DAY, WAS SHIPWRECKED: WITH
AN ADVERTISEMENT AGAINST WOMEN.

It was a bright April morning, and the Admiral's boat, as it swept
proudly past the little town, cast a wealth of bright reflection on
the water. Inhabitants of Troy, sitting at their windows, and
overlooking the harbour, caught sight of the yellow dresses, the blue
coat with its gold lace, and the red face beneath the cocked-hat, and
whispered to each other that something was in the wind.

Jane and Calypso rowed--for the Trojan maidens in those days were not
above pulling an oar, and did not mind blisters--while Sophia sat in
the bows, her mushroom hat "a world too wide" for the little green
parasol hoisted above it. The Admiral himself held the tiller ropes,
and occasionally gave a word of command. It was a gracious
spectacle.