It had been Samantha Kinzer's room, and had plenty of book-shelves, in addition to the elegant "cases" Mr.Foster had brought from the city with him; for Samantha was inclined to be of a literary turn of mind.

All the cases and shelves were full too; but not on any one of them was Ford Foster able to discover a volume he cared to take out with him in place of "Cook" or "Crusoe." The next morning, within half an hour after breakfast, every member of the two families was down at the landing, to see their young sailors make their start; and they were all compelled to admit that Dab and Dick seemed to know precisely what they were about.
As for Ford, that young gentleman was wise enough, with all those eyes watching him, not to try any thing that he was not sure of; though he carefully explained to Annie, "Dab is captain, you know.

I'm under his orders to-day." Dick Lee was hardly the wisest fellow in the world, for he added encouragingly,-- "And you's doin' tip-top, for a green hand, you is." The wind was blowing right off shore, and did not seem to promise any thing more than a smart breeze.

It was easy enough to handle the little craft in the inlet; and in a marvellously short time she was dancing out upon the blue waves of the spreading "bay." It was a good deal more like a land-locked "sound" than any sort of a bay, with that long, low, narrow sand-island cutting it off from the ocean.
"I don't wonder Ham Morris called her the 'Swallow,'" said Ford.

"How she skims! Can you get in under the deck, there, forward?
That's the cabin." "Yes, that's the cabin," replied Dab.