ashore that's goin' ashore. So long, Jerry. Git dap, Thousand Dollars!"

Daniel complacently accepted this testimony to his monetary worth and
jogged out of the yard. Fortunately appearances do not count for much in
Orham, except in the summer, and the spectacle of five in a carryall
is nothing out of the ordinary. They turned into the "cliff road," the
finest thoroughfare in town, kept in good condition for the benefit of
the cottagers and the boarders at the big hotel. The ocean was on the
left, and from the hill by the Barry estate--Captain Perez' charge--they
saw twenty miles of horizon line with craft of all descriptions
scattered along it.

Schooners there were of all sizes, from little mackerel seiners to big
four- and five-masters. A tug with a string of coal barges behind it
was so close in that they could make out the connecting hawsers. A black
freight steamer was pushing along, leaving a thick line of smoke like a
charcoal mark on the sky. One square-rigger was in sight, but far out.

"What do you make of that bark, Perez?" inquired Captain Eri, pointing
to the distant vessel. "British, ain't she?"

Captain Perez leaned forward and peered from under his hand. "French,
looks to me," he said.

"Don't think so. Way she's rigged for'ard looks like Johnny Bull. Look
at that fo'tops'l."

"Guess you're right, Eri, now I come to notice it. Can you make out her
flag? Wish I'd brought my glass."