ise you to stow the sails first, so that
if you meet a breeze they will not press against you."

I did as he advised me, lowered the mainsail and stowed it as he had
shown me how to do, and lowered the foresail and jib. Mark had gone out
that morning and had not returned, or he would have helped me, I had no
doubt. Wishing old Roger, Mrs Roger, and Nancy good-bye, I set out.

Sometimes I carried the cutter on one shoulder, sometimes on the other,
and then under my arm; but before I got half way I began to wish that
there was a canal between old Roger's cottage and the vicarage. My arms
and shoulders ached with the load. After resting some time, I once
again started and managed at last to get home. "The Hope" just as I had
expected, met with general admiration from my brothers and sisters.
They were much astonished to see me unfurl the sails, and all wished to
come and see her sail. I promised to give them that pleasure, provided
they would undertake to carry the cutter between them. Aunt Deb was the
only person who turned up her nose at seeing my model.

"Mr Riddle might have thought of some other present to give the boy,"
she observed; "there was no necessity indeed for his giving a present at
all. Dick's head is already too much turned towards sea matters, and
this will only make him think of them more than ever. I shall advise
your father to return the vessel to the old sailor, with the request
that he will dispose of it to some one else. In my opinion, it was very
wrong of him to make such a present without first asking leave."

I thought it better to say nothing, and Aunt Deb didn't carry out her
intentions. My mother, who was always generously inclined, gave me
leave to take a few pots of jam in return. A few days afterwards Ned
and I, and two of my sisters, set out to carry our present. They had
been interested in what I had told them about the old sailor and his
pretty daughter, and wanted to see them. On our arrival they received
us in a friendly way, and Mrs Riddle and Mary hurried to place chairs
for my sisters. They thanked us much for the present we had brought. I
observed that they all looked graver than usual. I inquired for Mark.

"He hasn't come home since yesterday evening," answered his father. "I
don't fancy that any harm has befallen him; but still I can't help
thinking all sorts of things. If he doesn't come back soon, I must set
out to look for him."

I found that Mark had