"Was my uncle's vessel, The Rose In Bloom, then, very different from
the Swash?"

"Very different indeed, child! Why, The Rose In Bloom was a
full-jiggered ship, and had twelve masts--and this is only a
half-jiggered brig, and has but two masts. See, you may count
them--one--two!"

Harry Mulford was coiling away a top-gallant-brace, directly in
front of Mrs. Budd and Rose, and, at hearing this account of the
wonderful equipment of The Rose In Bloom, he suddenly looked up,
with a lurking expression about his eye that the niece very well
comprehended, while he exclaimed, without much reflection, under the
impulse of surprise--"Twelve masts! Did I understand you to say,
ma'am, that Capt. Budd's ship had twelve masts?"

"Yes, sir, twelve! and I can tell you all their names, for I learnt
them by heart--it appearing to me proper that a ship-master's wife
should know the names of all the masts in her husband's vessel. Do
you wish to hear their names, Mr. Mulford?"

Harry Mulford would have enjoyed this conversation to the top of his
bent, had it not been for Rose. She well knew her aunt's general
weakness of intellect, and especially its weakness on this
particular subject, but she would suffer no one to manifest contempt
for either, if in her power to prevent it. It is seldom one so
young, so mirthful, so ingenuous and innocent in the expression of
her countenance, assumed so significant and rebuking a frown as did
pretty Rose Budd when she heard the mate's involuntary exclamation
about the "twelve masts." Harry, who was not easily checked by his