rooms--two on each side. Of these the captain and his mate, John
Somers, occupied those on the starboard, or right-hand side, and
those on the other, or port side, had been fitted up, by the
thoughtful kindness of Uncle Christopher, for the Elmers--one for
Mrs. Elmer and Ruth, and the other for Mark and his father.

"Ain't they perfectly lovely?" exclaimed Ruth. "Did you ever see
such cunning little beds? They wouldn't be much too big for Edna
May's largest doll."

"You mustn't call them 'beds,' Ruth; the right name is berths,"
said Mark, with the air of a boy to whom sea terms were familiar.

"I don't care," answered his sister; "they are beds for all that,
and have got pillows and sheets and counterpanes, just like the
beds at home."

Mr. Elmer found that his furniture, and the various packages of
tools intended for their Southern home, were all safe on board the
schooner and stowed down in the hold, and he soon had the trunks
from the station and the bags from the hotel brought down in a
wagon.

The captain said they had better spend the night on board, as he
wanted to be off by daylight, and they might as well get to
feeling at home before they started. They thought so too; and so,
after a walk through the city, where, among other curious sights,
they saw a post-office built on a bridge, they returned to the
Nancy Bell for supper.