inion on this subject.
Perhaps she wronged him by her silence, thus denying him the practical
advantage of her criticism for the direction of his future life. But
Paul never liked Mrs. Green so well after this, for she had spoken ill
of him whom he honored and esteemed.

Our young fisherman, apparently unmoved by the honors that clustered
around his name, pursued his humble avocation with pride and
pleasure--with pride, because he had been successful by his own unaided
exertions; with pleasure, because he was actually relieving his mother
from the entire burden of supporting the family. Since the rescue of
Carrie, perch, tom-cod, flounders, and tautog had been in greater demand
than ever, for many of the rich people bought fish, even when they did
not want them, just for the sake of patronizing the young hero; and the
poor people ate fish oftener than they would if their admiration for the
little fish merchant had been less.

The long summer vacation had commenced, and the boys were let loose from
school for six weeks. John felt as though he had been emancipated from a
dreadful drudgery. He could scarcely repress his exuberant joy, as he
carried home his books on the last day of the term. Paul reproved him
for his dislike of school, and told him he might see the day when he
would appreciate the advantages of a good education.

"I don't dislike school," growled John, though it was a good-natured
growl.

"Yes you do; you hate school," added Paul. "If you did not, you would
not be so glad to get away from it."

"'Not that I love Caesar less, but I love Rome more,'" replied John,
laughing.

"What do you mean by that?" demanded Paul, amused at the attitude into
which his brother threw himself as he uttered the quotation.

"Not that I love school less, but I love fishing more; that's the idea,"
replied John.

"I hope you will get enough of it in six weeks, then."

"I hope so, but I don't believe I shall. At any rate, I'm going every
day, and I'm going to be first mate of the Blowout."

"The what?"

"The Blowout; that's what I have christened the old boat."

"That's a very beautiful name."

"And she's a very beautiful boat," laughed John. "I wish you had a
better one."

"So do I; perhaps I may have, one of these days."

"Somebody's got a new one, Paul," added John.

"There is one moored off Mercantile Point. Did you see her?"

"No; whose is she?"

"I don't know; I saw her come up the bay as I came home