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[Illustration: TITLE PAGE:
ELM ISLAND STORIES.
BY
REV. ELIJAH KELLOGG.
YOUNG SHIP-BUILDERS
LEE AND SHEPARD BOSTON]
ELM ISLAND STORIES.
THE
YOUNG SHIP-BUILDERS
OF
ELM ISLAND.
BY
REV. ELIJAH KELLOGG,
AUTHOR OF “LION BEN OF ELM ISLAND,” “CHARLIE BELL OF ELM ISLAND,”
“THE ARK OF ELM ISLAND,” “THE BOY FARMERS OF ELM
ISLAND,” “THE HARD SCRABBLE OF
ELM ISLAND,” ETC.
BOSTON:
LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS.
NEW YORK:
LEE, SHEPARD & DILLINGHAM, 49 GREENE STREET.
1871.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by
LEE AND SHEPARD,
In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the District
of Massachusetts.
ELECTROTYPED AT THE
BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY,
19 Spring Lane.
PREFACE.
THE natural progress of this series has brought us to a period in the
history of our young friends, when, instead of labors in a measure
voluntary, pursued at home, amid home comforts, they toil for exacting
masters or the public, enter into competition with others, feel the
pressure of responsibility, learn submission, and are tied down to
rigid rules and severe tasks. The manner in which they meet and sustain
these new and trying relations shows the stuff they are made of; that
the fear of God in a young heart is a shield in the hour of temptation,
the foundation of true courage, and the strongest incentive to manly
effort; that he who does the best for his employer does the best for
himself; that the boy in whose character are the germs of sterling
worth, and a true manhood, will scorn to lead a useless life, eat
the bread he has not earned, and live upon the bounty of parents and
friends.
_ELM ISLAND STORIES._
1. LION BEN OF ELM ISLAND.
2. CHARLIE BELL, THE WAIF OF ELM ISLAND.
3. THE ARK OF ELM ISLAND.
4. THE BOY FARMERS OF ELM ISLAND.
5. THE YOUNG SHIP-BUILDERS OF ELM ISLAND.
6. THE HARD-SCRABBLE OF ELM ISLAND.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. LEARNING A TRADE 9
II. GUNNING ON THE OUTER REEFS 21
III. INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS 37
IV. THE WEST WIND 53
V. HAPS AND MISHAPS 71
VI. PARSON GOODHUE AND THE WILD GANDER 89
VII. CHARLIE GETS NEW IDEAS WHILE IN BOSTON 107
VIII. NO GIVE UP TO CHARLIE 120
IX. CHARLIE LEARNING A NEW LANGUAGE 133
X. WHERE THERE’S A WILL THERE’S A WAY 146
XI. POMP’S POND 152
XII. CHARLIE UNCONSCIOUSLY PREFIGURES THE
FUTURE 166
XIII. BETTER LET SLEEPING DOGS ALONE 186
XIV. VICTORY AT LAST 196
XV. THE SURPRISER SURPRISED 207
XVI. WHY CHARLIE DIDN’T WANT TO SELL THE WINGS OF THE MORNING 222
XVII. CHARLIE EXPLORING THE COAST 236
XVIII. CHARLIE BECOMES A FREEHOLDER 256
XIX. CHARLIE IN THE SHIP-YARD 272
XX. THE FIRST TROUBLE AND THE FIRST PRAYER 289
THE YOUNG SHIP-BUILDERS OF ELM ISLAND.
CHAPTER I.
LEARNING A TRADE.
THE question, What shall I do in life? is, to an industrious, ambitious
boy, desirous to make the most of himself, quite a trying one.
Thoughts of that nature were busy at the heart of John Rhines; he now
had leisure to indulge them, as, upon his return from Elm Island, he
found that the harvesting was all secured, and the winter school not
yet commenced. The whole summer had been one continued scene of hard
work and pleasurable excitement. Missing his companions, being somewhat
lonesome and at a loss what to do with himself, he would take his gun,
wander off in the woods, and sitting down on a log, turn the matter
over in his mind. At one time he thought of going into the forest and
cutting out a farm, as Ben had done; he had often talked the matter
over with Charlie, who cherished similar ideas. Sometimes he thought
of learning a trade, but could not settle upon one that suited him,
for which, he conceived, he had a capacity. Again, he thought of being
a sailor; but he knew that both father and mother would be utterly
opposed to it. While thus debating with himself, that Providence, which
we believe has much to do with human occupations, determined the whole
matter in the easiest and most natural manner imaginable. John Rhines,
though a noble boy to work, had never manifested any mechanical ability
or inclination whatever. If he wanted anything made, he would go over
to Uncle Isaac and do some farming work for him, while he made it for
him.
It so happened, while he was thus at leisure, that his father sent him
down to the shop of Peter Brock with a crowbar, to have it forged over.
(The readers of the previous volume well know that Ben, when at home,
had tools made on purpose for him, which nobody else could handle.)
This was Ben’s bar. Captain Rhines had determined to make two of
it, and sent it to the shop with orders to cut it in two parts, draw
them down, and steel-point them. John, having flung down the bar and
delivered the message, was going home again, when Peter said,--
“Won’t you strike for me to draw this down? It’s a big piece of iron.
My apprentice, Sam Rounds, has gone home sick; besides, when I weld the
steel on, I must have somebody to take it out of the fire and hold it
for me, while I weld it.”
“I had rather do it than not, Peter. I want something to do, for I feel
kind of lonesome.”
Stripping off his jacket, he caught up the big sledge, and soon
rendered his friend efficient aid.
“There’s not another boy in town could swing that sledge,” said Peter.
“Do you ever expect to be as stout as Ben?”
“I don’t know; I should like to be.”
“Are you done on the island?”
“Yes.”
“They say you three boys did a great summer’s work.”
“We did the best we could.”
“I know that most of the people thought it wasn’t a very good
calculation in your brother Ben to go off and leave three boys to
plan for themselves, and that there wouldn’t be much done--at any rate
that’s the way I heard them talk while they were having their horses
shod.”
“That was just what made us work. If a man hires me, and then goes
hiding behind the fences, and smelling round, to see whether I am at
work or not, I don’t think much of him; but if he trusts me, puts
confidence in me, won’t I work for that man! Yes, harder than I would
for myself. But what did they say when they came home from husking?”
“O, the boot was on the other leg then; there never was such crops of
corn and potatoes raised in this town before on the same ground. Has
your father got his harvest in?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’ve got a lot of axes to make for the logging swamp; my
apprentice has got a fever; I must have some one to strike; I tried for
Joe Griffin, but he’s going into the woods, and Henry too; why can’t
you help me?”
“I don’t know how.”
“All I want of you is to blow and strike; you will soon learn to strike
fair; you are certainly strong enough.”
“Reckon I am. I can lift your load, and you on top of it.”
“Well, then, why can’t you help me? I’m sure I don’t know what I shall
do.”
“If father is willing, I’ll help you till school begins.”
The result was, that John, in a short time, evinced, not only a great
fondness, but also a remarkable capacity for the work, made flounder
and eel-spears, clam-forks, and mended all his father’s broken
hay-forks and other tools.
John worked with Peter till school began. The day before going to
school, he went to see Charlie, as passing to and from the island in
winter was so difficult they seldom met.
To the great surprise of Charlie, Ben, and Sally, who never knew John
to be guilty of making anything, he presented Charlie with two iron
anchors for the Sea-foam, with iron stocks and rings complete, and Ben
with an eel-spear and clam-fork, very neatly made.
“What neat little things they are!” said Charlie, looking at the
anchors. “Where did you get them?”
“Made them,” replied John, “at Peter’s shop.”
“Why, John,” said Ben, “you’ve broken out in a bran-new place!”
John then told him that he had been at work in the blacksmith’s shop,
how well he liked it, and that, after school was out, he meant to ask
his father to let him learn the trade.
“John,” said Ben, “Uncle Isaac, Joe Griffin, and myself have been
talking this two years about going outside gunning. If I go, I want
to go before the menhaden are all gone; for we shall want bait, in
order that we may fish as well as gun. It is late now, and the first
north-easter will drive the menhaden all out of the bay.”
“I heard him and Joe talking about it the other day; they said they
calculated to go.”
“Well, tell them I’m ready at any time, and to come on, whenever they
think it is suitable.”
John and Charlie went to the shore to sail the Sea-foam,--a boat, three
feet long, rigged into a schooner,--and try the new anchors. While they
were looking at her, Charlie fell into a reverie.
“Didn’t she go across quick, that time, Charlie?”
No reply.
“Charlie, didn’t she steer herself well then?”
Still no answer.
“What are you thinking about, Charlie?”
“You see what a good wind she holds, John?”
“Yes.”
“And how well she works, just like any vessel?”
“Well, then, what is the reason we couldn’t dig out a boat big enough
to sail in, and model her just like that? These canoes are not much
better than hog’s troughs.”
“It would take an everlasting great log to have any room inside, except
right in the middle.”
“We could dig her out very thin, and make her long enough to make up
for the sharp ends.”
“It would be a great idea. I should like dearly to try it.”
The boys now went to bed and talked boat till they worked themselves
into a complete fever, and were fully determined to realize this
novel idea; for, as is generally the case in such matters, the more
they deliberated upon and took counsel about it, the more feasible it
seemed; then they considered and magnified the astonishment of Fred
and Captain Rhines when they should sail over in their new craft, and
finally settled down into the belief that, if they realized their idea,
it would not fall one whit short of the conception and construction of
the Ark herself.
But the main difficulty--and it was one that seemed to threaten failure
to the whole matter--was, where to obtain a log, as one of sufficient
size for that purpose would make a mast for a ship of the line, and
was too valuable, even in those days, to cut for a plaything, as it
was by no means certain that she would ever be anything more: there
were indeed trees enough, with short butts, large enough for their
purpose, had they wanted to make a common float, or a canoe, with round
ends, like a common tray; but, as they were to sharpen up the ends
vessel fashion, give her quite a sharp floor, and take so much from the
outside in order to shape her, it was necessary that the tree should be
long, as well as large, to be recompensed by length for the room thus
taken from the inside, and leave sufficient thickness of wood to hold
together.
While Charlie was debating in his own mind whether to ask his father
to permit him to cut such a tree, John, with a flash of recollection
that sent the words from his lips with the velocity of a shell from a
mortar, exclaimed, jumping up on end in bed,--
“I have it now! there’s a log been lying all summer in our cove, that
came there in the last freshet, with no mark on it, more than thirty
feet long, and I know it’s more’n five feet through: it’s a bouncer, I
tell you; but it’s hollow at the butt, and I suppose that’s what they
condemned it for; but I don’t believe the hollow runs in far. It’s
mine, for I picked it up and fastened it.”
“But you are going to school. You can’t help me make it; and we should
have such a good time. It is too bad!”
“Well, I can do this much towards it. I don’t care a great deal about
going to school the first day; they won’t do much. I’ll help you tow it
over, and haul it up; and if you don’t get it done before, when school
is done, I’ll come on, help you make sugar, and finish the boat.”
“Then I won’t do any more than to dig some of it out. I won’t make the
outside till you come.”
In the morning they went over to look at it, and found the hollow only
extended about four feet. It was afloat and fastened with a rope,
just as John had secured it in the spring. They towed it home without
attracting notice, as they considered it very important to keep the
matter secret till the craft was completed.
“Then,” said Charlie, “if we should spoil the log, and don’t make a
boat, there will be nobody to laugh at us.”
Putting down skids, they hauled it up on to the grass ground with the
oxen, and, with a cross-cut saw, made it the right length. As all above
the middle of the log had to be cut away, and was of no use to them,
it was evident, that if they could split it in halves, the other half
would make a canoe, clapboards, or shingles.
“This is a beautiful log,” said Charlie. “It is too bad to cut half of
it into chips. It is straight-grained and clear of knots; we will split
it.”
“Split it!” said John; “‘twould take a week!”
“No, it won’t. We can split it with powder.”
“I never thought of that.”
They bored holes in the log at intervals of three feet, filled them
part full of powder, and drove in a plug with a score cut in the side
of it. Into this they poured powder, to communicate with that in the
hole. They then laid a train, and touched them all at once, when the
log flew apart in an instant, splitting as straight as the two halves
of an acorn.
“I’ll take the half you don’t want, boys,” said Ben, who, unnoticed,
had watched their proceedings; “it will make splendid clapboards.”
During the winter, on half holidays, and at every leisure moment, John
Rhines was to be found at the blacksmith’s shop. At length he could
contain himself no longer, but went to his father and asked permission
to learn the blacksmith’s trade of Peter. John anticipated a hard
struggle in obtaining his father’s consent, if indeed he obtained it at
all, as there was a large farm to take care of, plenty to do at home,
and enough to do with. But Captain Rhines, who had always said, if a
boy would only work steadily, his own inclinations should be consulted
in choice of occupation, was so rejoiced to find he didn’t want to go
to sea, of which he had always been apprehensive, that he yielded the
point at once.
“It is a good trade, John,” said he, “and always will be; but I
wouldn’t think of learning a trade of Peter.”
“Why not, father?”
“Because he’s no workman; he’s just a botcher.”
“Who shall I learn of?”
“I’ll tell you, my son; go to Portland and learn to do ship-work;
there’s money in that; ship-building is going to be the great business
along shore for many a year to come. You’ll make more money forging
fishermen’s anchors, or doing the iron-work of a vessel, in one season,
than you would mending carts, shoeing old horses and oxen, making
axes, pitchforks, and chains in three years. My old friend, Captain
Starrett, has a brother who is a capital workman, a finished mechanic,
learned his trade in the old country--and his wife is a first-rate
woman; she went from this town. I’ll get you a chance there.”
Captain Rhines went to Portland in the course of the winter, and
secured an opportunity for John to begin to work the first of May.