, and reconciliation is a
round in the ladder."

CHAPTER XIII.

A KNIGHT GOES TO SEA.

"And do you want to come to my launching?"

"You going to be launched?" asked Charlie.

"Not exactly," said Skipper Wentworth, Wort's father, "but my schooner is,
and if you come to Raynes's ship-yard next Saturday, you will see her. You
can tell any of the other boys to come if they like. Wort will be there."

Charlie went down to the yard the day before the launching. The schooner
seemed to be an ant-heap where all the ants were stirring, and all were on
the outside, so many men were at work. The club boys were quite numerously
represented through their friends. Sid's father was flourishing a
paint-brush high up on a staging. Pip's father and also Juggie's cousin
were swinging their hammers about the cook's quarters Pip's grandfather, a
blacksmith, was inspecting some of the iron-work of the vessel. A tall
cousin of the governor was driving oxen. The clanking chains of the oxen
hauling timber for the building of another vessel, the pounding of
hammers, the shouts of the bosses ordering the workmen, made a lively
compound of sound. The next Saturday, every thing was ready for the
launching.

With eager eyes Charlie noticed all the movements of the workmen. He saw
them drive the wedges under the schooner, and heard blow on blow as the
wedges went in farther and farther. He saw them knock away the props
holding the schooner in place, and along the ways, or planed timbers, well
greased for the schooner's ride, he watched the vessel slowly then swiftly
moving. Down, down she went, lower and lower, so deep into the waiting
arms of the blue river, that the waters threatened to go over her, and
then up she came gracefully, bringing a bridal-veil of snowy foam with
her, and exciting the admiration of all the spectators, who vented their
feelings in an uproarious "Hurrah!" One of the fortunate party that had
permission to be in the vessel at its launching was Wort Wentworth, the
skipper's boy.

"I must see every thing that there is," thought the inquisitive boy, and
he turned, finally, into the state-room which the skipper himself expected
to occupy as his quarters in the cabin. "Nice place," he said, climbing
into his father's berth, and there curling up into one corner.

The day had been an exciting one, and yet tiresome, and Wort's next
movement was to gape.

"Sort of sleepy," he said. The wind murmuring at the open win