hundred other, feed the imagination and fill the brain of every
healthy boy with dreams of adventure. He learns to swim almost as
soon as he can walk; he draws in with his mother's milk the art of
handling an oar: he is born a sailor, whatever he may turn out to
be afterwards.

To own the whole or a portion of a rowboat is his earliest
ambition. No wonder that I, born to this life, and coming back to
it with freshest sympathies, should have caught the prevailing
infection. No wonder I longed to buy a part of the trim little
sailboat Dolphin, which chanced just then to be in the market. This
was in the latter part of May.

Three shares, at five or six dollars each, I forget which, had
already been taken by Phil Adams, Fred Langdon, and Binny Wallace.
The fourth and remaining share hung fire. Unless a purchaser could
be found for this, the bargain was to fall through.

I am afraid I required but slight urging to join in the investment.
I had four dollars and fifty cents on hand, and the treasurer of
the Centipedes (1 A secret society, composed of twelve boys of the
Temple Grammar School, Rivermouth.) advanced me the balance,
receiving my silver pencil-case as ample security. It was a proud
moment when I stood on the wharf with my partners, inspecting the
Dolphin, moored at the foot of a very slippery flight of steps. She
was painted white with a green stripe outside, and on the stern a
yellow dolphin, with its scarlet mouth wide open, stared with a
surprised expression at its own reflection in the water. The boat
was a great bargain.