n I pulled in my oars and stood up to take
its picture--no easy task, with the boat mounting and plunging among the
swells. But I have my picture, its horizon line at a noticeable slant,
reminiscent of my unsteady balance. It means little to other people, but
to us it means the sweetness of sunshine and wind and water, the sweetness
of grass and bird-notes, all breathed over by the spirit of solitude.

Then it melted away--our island--into the waste of waters, and we turned to
look toward the misty headlands beyond our bow. Where the marshlands were,
we followed them closely, but where the shore was rocky, or, worse still,
built up with summer cottages, we often made a straight course from
headland to headland, keeping well out, often a mile or two, to avoid tide
eddies. We liked the feeling of being far out, the shore a dark blue, the
cottages little dots. But we liked it, too, when the headland before us
grew large, its rocks and bushes stood out, and we could see the white rip
off its point--a rip to be taken with some caution if we hoped to keep our
cargo dry. And then, the rip passed, if the bay beyond curved in quiet and
uninhabited, how we loved to turn and pull along close to shore, watching
its beaches and sand-cliffs draw smoothly away beside our stern, or, best
of all, pulling about and running in till our bow grated and we jumped to
the wet beach and ran up the cliff to look about. Such moments bring in a
peculiar way the thrill of discovery. It is one thing to go along a coast
by land, and learn its ways so. It is a good thing. But it is quite
another to fare over its waters and turn in upon it from without,
surprising its secrets as from another world.

But to do this, your boat must be a little one. As soon as you have a real
keel, the case is altered. For a keel demands a special landing-place--a
wharf--and a wharf means human habitation, and then--where is your thrill of
discovery? Ah, no!--a little boat! And you can land anywhere, among rocks
or in sandy shallows; you can explore the tide creeks and marshes and the
little rivers; you can beach wherever you like, wherever the rippling
waves themselves can go. A little boat for romance!

A little boat, but a long cruise, as long as may be. To be sure, a boat
and a bit of water anywhere is good. Even an errand across the pond and
back may be a joy. But if you can, now and then, free yourself from the
there-and-back habit, the reward is great. The joy of p