THE UPSETTING OF THE MONKEY, AND ITS LESSON.
“The Monkey has upset!” exclaimed Dory, considerably excited by the
catastrophe.
“You had better take the helm, Dory, for we can’t wait to make any
mistakes,” added Oscar, as he gave the tiller to the skipper.
“Bolly is determined to drown himself, and he will do it if he keeps
on trying. I did not think he had pluck enough to go out in a sailboat
again without a skipper.”
“But the rowboats are all around him, and they are all pulling towards
the Monkey,” continued Oscar. “But that sailboat don’t sink, as you
say the other did.”
“Perhaps she has not ballast enough to carry her down. She is lying
flat on her side, and the fellows that were in her are clinging to
her. They are safe for a while if they will only hold on,” said the
skipper of the Goldwing when he had taken in the situation.
The Goldwing was within five hundred feet of the Monkey when the
latter went over; and, before any of the rowboats reached the wreck,
the schooner was alongside of her. The skipper had taken in the
foresail; and, as she rounded-to, Oscar let go the jib-halyard, and
Dory lowered the mainsail. With the boat-hook Oscar got hold of the
wreck, and the schooner was hauled alongside.
Bolly, Steve Baxter, and Phil Gawner were helped into the Goldwing.
All three of them were thoroughly frightened, but were not otherwise
damaged.
“Who was the skipper of this boat?” asked Dory.
“Bolly; and he said he knew how to sail a boat, or we should not have
come out with him,” replied Phil.
“Can you skipper a boat, Bolly?” said Dory, turning to Bolly.
“I thought I could,” answered Bolly sheepishly.
“You thought so last Friday, when you let that steam-launch run into
you.”
“But since that I have watched you, and I was sure I could do it,”
pleaded Bolly.
“I don’t think you know any more about it now than you did then. I
told Oscar you would upset the boat when I first saw her come out of
the river. I don’t believe you will ever be hanged. If you are going
to keep doing this thing, you had better learn to swim,” added the
skipper of the Goldwing.
“I won’t try it again: there is something about sailing a boat that I
don’t understand,” replied Bolly.
“A good deal that you don’t understand; and, if you want to commit
suicide, you had better keep on sailing a boat. You will finish the
job one of these days. It is lucky this boat did not sink, like the
other. If she had, some of you might have been drowned. As it is, we
must get her up, and bail her out.”
“If you will tell us how, we will do all the work,” added Bolly.
By this time the four-oar boat came up. Corny Minkfield was acting as
coxswain, in the absence of Dory. Dick Short was not in the boat, and
Dave Windsor and John Brattle pulled the two after-oars.
“Where is Dick Short?” asked Dory.
“Mr. Brookbine would not let him come. He said he must learn the lesson
he lost while he was up a tree,” replied Corny. “We have got two
greenhorns in the boat, and we can’t row worth a cent.”
“No need of telling of it, for any one could see it a mile off,”
laughed Dory.
“Corny wants to do all the ordering while we do all the work,” added
Dave Windsor. “When he is appointed boss we will mind him.”
“Just as you like. There is Captain Gildrock on the point watching us,
and I don’t believe he will let any of you fellows out in a boat again
till you learn how to handle one. But we must put the Monkey in shape,
and take her up the river: Sim Green don’t want to lose another boat
just yet.”
Dory fastened a line to the mast-head of the Monkey. As the boat had
gone over on the port side, he moved the Goldwing to the opposite
side. But pulling on this line would only move the boat in the water
without righting her.
Making another line fast to the middle of the inside of the wreck, he
passed it over the side out of the water, and then drew it under the
keel, carrying the rope out beyond the mast-head. The end of the line
was then made fast to the stern of Corny’s boat, whose crew were
directed to pull with all their might when the word was given.
Dory then climbed to the foremast-head of the Goldwing, with the other
line tied around his body. From this elevated position he could pull
up from the fallen mast of the Monkey. He gave the word to Corny to
pull, and the boat yanked away at the line; but the crew pulled so
badly that they did not exert any great force.
The skipper passed his line over the spring-stay of the schooner, so
that Oscar could keep what he got. When he pulled at the rope, greatly
to his delight, and somewhat to his astonishment, the mast of the
wreck began to rise, and the hull began to right. After it had been
elevated a few feet, it was easy work; and the Monkey was soon right
side up. The rowers gave a smart cheer when the work was accomplished.
Bolly and his companions timidly returned to the Monkey. All the
buckets and dippers that both boats contained were in demand, and she
was soon free of water. The lines were cast off, and both sailboats
were ready to return to Beech Lake. Phil and John Brattle positively
refused to sail with Bolly again, and the late skipper of the Monkey
had his doubts about attempting to get the boat into the river without
upsetting her.
“I can do it,” suggested Oscar.
“I have no doubt you can, Oscar, and you may do it,” replied Dory.
“You will have the wind fair all the way.”
Oscar took his place in the Monkey, which he soon found was not such a
craft as the Goldwing. He trimmed the sail, and got under way without
making any mistakes. He had the wind on the beam, and he let out the
sheet of the sloop until the sail would just draw full. The craft made
double the speed she had attained at any time since she came out with
her incompetent skipper.
Dory followed her in the Goldwing when he got his sails up. He watched
the work of his pupil with close attention as he passed the Monkey,
and shouted his approval to Oscar. When he reached the point, Captain
Gildrock made a signal that he would like to be taken on board the
schooner; and Dory made a landing.
“No more boating for these boys at present,” said the principal, as he
stepped into the Goldwing. “They can neither sail a boat nor row one.
Who is sailing that boat now, Dory? He is doing better than has been
done with her before this afternoon.”
“Oscar Chester is in charge of her. He has been sailing with me in the
schooner; and, as far as he has gone, he knows how to do it,” replied
Dory.
“It will be impossible to keep them out of the boats; and the pupils
must be taught at once how to row, and how to handle a sailboat,”
continued the captain, as he glanced at the rowing of the party in the
four-oar boat. “When I saw that sloop-boat go over, I thought that the
first day of our school was to end in a disaster. I am thankful that
no one lost his life. But no one shall go out of Beech Lake again in a
sailboat unless there is a skipper on board.”
Dick Short welcomed the boys back to the school-grounds. He had made
up the lost lesson, and was as good-natured as though he had not been
punished. Before breakfast the next morning, the boys all walked over
to the beach in the little lake, and went into the water. In the
evening a great deal had been said about learning to swim. It was
found that only eight boys out of the twenty-two could swim a stroke.
Dory and Harry Franklin were appointed instructors in this department;
and they were to have a lesson every day, when the weather was
suitable.
Some pieces of plank were obtained at the lumber-shed, and conveyed to
the beach. Holding these floats with their hands, some of the boys
ventured out into deep water. The first thing was to obtain the
necessary confidence. They were told how to move their feet in the
operation, and the first trials were very satisfactory.
The schoolroom exercises of the forenoon were about the same as the
day before. The boys all felt that their learning was to be of the
most practical kind, such as would help them in the business of life.
All education does this, but all boys cannot realize it.
The first business of the afternoon with the second class was to put
up the shelves they had made the day before. Of course, the boys had
to go through a great many forms that were useless to experienced
workmen.
“Now, my lads, we are to nail the shelves to the brackets,” said Mr.
Brookbine. “To do this correctly will be a nicer job than you have yet
done; but you must work carefully, and give strict attention to the
directions. With the larger try-square draw a light line eight inches
from each end of the shelf, and on the top.”
“Which is the top?” asked Dick Short, as he looked on both sides of
the board in the hands of Phil Gawner, who was his bench-partner.
“Either side will answer for the top, but you should take the best
side--the one with no rough places in it--if there is any choice.
Always put the best side out: there is no cheat in it in carpentering.
It is not like putting all the poorest apples at the bottom of the
barrel.”
The students selected a side for the top, and ruled the lines.
“Now draw another line on the other side, seven inches and a half from
the end,--a more decided line than the other. Good! Now put one of the
brackets in the bench-vise, and screw it up tight. Put the wide end of
the bracket up, and about two inches above the top of the bench.--Tom
Ridley, you have got it four inches.--Ben, you are not more than one
inch.--You must learn to measure distances with the eye. That will do.
“Here are several kegs of nails, which I opened this forenoon. We
have spikes, tenpenny, eightpenny, sixpenny, shingle, and lath nails.
There are two kinds of the same length, as a tenpenny or an eightpenny
board-nail, or a finish-nail. Board-nails have a broader head, and are
stouter than a finish-nail. Which kind shall we use for the shelves?”
“Finish-nails,” shouted half a dozen boys at a venture.
“Eightpenny finish will be about right. No. 1 will nail to the first
bracket, and No. 2 to the second. No. 2 will take the board, and lay
the end on the bracket, and No. 1 will nail it. Fix the shelf exactly
against the mark on the under side. Hold the board very still; and,
when the nailer gets it exactly right, he should put his left hand
against the bracket, grasping the board at the same time.”
The instructor did it himself, and all the nailers observed how he did
it.
“The light line on the top is to show you where the nails are to be
driven. Now go ahead. Strike so as to hit the nail squarely with the
face of the hammer, so that it will not bend the nail, or slip off and
mar the board.”
He had to stop half of them, and give them a little outside practice
with the hammer. But the boards were nailed on. They were tried with
the square, and then nailed against the wall, between the windows. The
planes were put upon them, and the boys were proud of their first job.