Frank, the Young Naturalist | Page 9

the nicest
order, and Frank spends every rainy day at his bench.
The young naturalist is also a good sailor, and has the reputation of
understanding the management of a sail-boat as well as any other boy
in the village. He has two boats, which are in the creek, tied to the
wharf in front of the house. One of them is a light skiff, which he
frequently uses in going to and from the village and on his fishing
excursions, and the other is a scow, about twenty feet long and six feet
wide, which he built himself. He calls her the Speedwell. He has no
sail-boat, but he has passed hour after hour trying to conjure up some
plan by which he might be enabled to possess himself of one. Such a
one as he wants, and as most of the village have, would cost fifty
dollars. Already he has laid by half that amount; but how is he to get
the rest? He has begun to grow impatient. The yachting season has just
opened; every day the river is dotted with white sails; trials of speed
between the swiftest sailers come off almost every hour, and he is
obliged to stand and look on, or content himself with rowing around in
his skiff. It is true he has many friends who are always willing to allow
him a seat in their boats, but that does not satisfy him. He has
determined to have a yacht of his own, if there is any honest way for
him to get it. For almost a year he has carefully laid aside every penny,

and but half the necessary sum has been saved. How to get the
remainder is the difficulty. He never asks his mother for money; he is
too independent for that; besides, he has always been taught to rely on
his own resources, and he has made up his mind that, if he can not earn
his boat, he will go without it.
Three or four days after the commencement of our story, Frank might
have been seen, about five o'clock one pleasant morning, seated on the
wharf in front of the house, with Brave at his side. The question how he
should get his boat had been weighing heavily upon his mind, and he
had come to the conclusion that something must be done, and that
speedily.
"Well," he soliloquized, "my chance of getting a sail-boat this season is
rather slim, I'm afraid. But I've made up my mind to have one, and I
won't give it up now. Let me see! I wonder how the Sunbeam [meaning
his skiff] would sail? I mean to try her. No," he added, on second
thought, "she couldn't carry canvas enough to sail with one of the
village yachts. I have it!" he exclaimed at length, springing to his feet.
"The Speedwell! I wonder if I couldn't make a sloop of her. At any rate,
I will get her up into my shop and try it."
Frank, while he was paying a visit to his cousin in Portland, had
witnessed a regatta, in which the Peerless, a large, schooner-rigged
scow, had beaten the swiftest yachts of which the city boasted; and he
saw no reason why his scow could not do the same. The idea was no
sooner conceived than he proceeded to put it into execution. He sprang
up the bank, with Brave close at his heels, and in a few moments
disappeared in the wood-shed. A large wheelbarrow stood in one corner
of the shed, and this Frank pulled from its place, and, after taking off
the sides, wheeled it down to the creek, and placed it on the beach, a
little distance below the wharf. He then untied the painter--a long rope
by which the scow was fastened to the wharf--and drew the scow down
to the place where he had left the wheelbarrow. He stood for some
moments holding the end of the painter in his hand, and thinking how
he should go to work to get the scow, which was very heavy and
unwieldy, upon the wheelbarrow. But Frank was a true Yankee, and

fruitful in expedients, and he soon hit upon a plan, which he was about
putting into execution, when a strong, cheery voice called out:
"Arrah, me boy! What'll yer be after doing with the boat?"
Frank looked up and saw Uncle Mike, as the boys called him--a
good-natured Irishman, who lived in a small rustic cottage not far from
Mrs. Nelson's--coming down the bank.
"Good morning, Uncle Mike," said Frank, politely accepting the
Irishman's proffered hand and shaking it cordially. "I want to get this
scow up to my shop; but I'm afraid it is a little too heavy for me to
manage."