“No fear of that, Charlie. It will be but a very little while, after father and Henry go down fishing among the canoes, before you will have a call to build boats. I know our people around here well enough to know that they won’t stand it a great while to see others sailing by them, while they are tugging at their oars.”
“Father, Uncle Isaac is at home now. Next trip he is going with Joe. He has often asked me to come and see him. If you are willing, I’ll go before I begin on the shop.”
“Go, Charlie, and make him a good visit.”
WHY CHARLIE DIDN’T WANT TO SELL THE WINGS OF THE MORNING.
THE next morning, Charlie, arrayed in his best, went over to see Uncle Isaac, landing first at the wharf, and having a little conference with Fred, looking over his fish flakes, into the fish-house and store, after which he made sail, and soon ran over to Uncle Isaac’s Point. He found his canoe at the shore, aground forward, but her stern afloat. He did not want to let his boat ground, and had just put his hand on the canoe to shove her into the water, that he might put his boat off at anchor, when he espied the birch, bottom up, under a tree, and carefully covered with spruce boughs to protect her from the sun. An irresistible desire instantly seized upon him to get into the birch. Indeed, he wanted, and had determined to, the first time he ever saw her, which was when Uncle Isaac came on to Elm Island to announce the arrival of the Ark in Havana, but the good news had driven it all out of his head till too late.
This was an opportunity too good to lose. He drew her carefully into the water, and fastening her to his boat, rowed both off, till a sufficient distance from the shore, when, after anchoring the boat and furling the sails, he prepared to get into the birch. He had heard that it was a very difficult matter to go in one; but he was exceedingly lithe of limb, a proficient in wrestling, accustomed to put himself in all manner of shapes, and used to going in ticklish gunning floats, and considered the notion that he couldn’t manage a birch as simply ridiculous.
He got in, and disdaining the dictates of prudence, which prompted to a sitting posture, began to paddle towards the shore. He was more than three times the length of the canoe from the boat, when, he knew not how or wherefore, the birch in a moment slid from under him, and instantly righting, went gayly off before the wind towards Elm Island.