mildly. "But I've seen the time when kittens wa'n't to be despised.
You jest set that way a little mite, Mr. Woodworth, and I'll beach her
even."

"One thing I'm glad of," said the artist, as the boat grated along the
pebbles. "You can pay Andy."

"Andy'll be glad," responded Uncle William, "but it'll be quite a spell
before he has a chance to." He waved his arm toward the bay. "He's off
for the day."

The artist scanned the horizon with disappointed face. "He'll be back by
noon, perhaps?"

Uncle William shook his head. "Not afore night. I can tell by the way
he's movin'. We'll come up and hev dinner and then we can plan her out."

They sat on the rocks all the afternoon, looking at the dancing waves
and planning for the new _Jennie_. Uncle William drew models on the back
of an old envelope and explained figures. The artist followed him with
eager eyes. Now and then his chest expanded and he drew a deep breath of
satisfaction.

"Feel's good, don't it?" said Uncle William. "I ust to feel that way
when I'd been in debt a good while and made a big ketch. Seemed 's if
the whole world slid off my shoulders." He shook his head. "But it was
kind o' foolishness."

"Wouldn't you feel that way now?" demanded the artist.