consented.

Thus it came to pass that Tuesday morning found the party assembled on
the wharf at Mohair, the Four and the Celebrity, as well as Mr. Cooke,
having produced yachting suits from their inexhaustible wardrobes. Mr.
Trevor and his daughter, Mrs. Cooke and Miss Thorn, and Farrar and myself
completed the party. We were to adhere strictly to primeval principles:
the ladies were not permitted a maid, while the Celebrity was forced to
leave his manservant, and Mr. Cooke his chef. I had, however, thrust
into my pocket the Minneapolis papers, which had been handed me by the
clerk on their arrival at the inn, which happened just as I was leaving.
'Quod bene notandum!'

Thereby hangs a tale!

For the northern lakes the day was rather dead: a little wind lay in the
southeast, scarcely enough to break the water, with the sky an intense
blue. But the Maria was hardly cast and under way before it became
painfully apparent that the Celebrity was much better fitted to lead a
cotillon than to sail a boat. He gave his orders, nevertheless, in a
firm, seamanlike fashion, though with no great pertinence, and thus
managed to establish the confidence of Mr. Cooke. Farrar, after setting
things to rights, joined Mrs. Cooke and me over the cabin.

"How about hoisting the spinnaker, mate?" the Celebrity shouted after
him.

Farrar did not deign to answer: his eye was on the wind. And the boom,
which had been acting uneasily, finally decided to gybe, and swept
majestically over, carrying two of the Four in front of it, and all but