The Scientific American Boy | Page 4

he packed Bill off to our school, which was
chosen in preference to some others because one of the professors there
had been a classmate of Uncle Ed's at college. Bill roomed with me,
and naturally we became great chums. When Christmas time came, of
course I invited him to spend the holidays with me. My home was
situated in the little village of Lamington, on the Jersey side of the

Delaware River. Here we arrived late at night on the Saturday before
Christmas. A cold wind was blowing which gave promise of breaking
the spell of warm weather we had been having, and of giving us a
chance to try our skates for the first time. True to our expectations, the
next day was bitterly cold, and a visit to the canal which ran along the
river bank, just beyond our back fence, showed that quite a thick skim
of ice had formed on the water. Monday morning, bright and early,
found us on the smooth, slippery surface of the canal. "Us" here
includes, in addition to Bill and myself, my two younger brothers, Jack
and Fred, and also Dutchy Van Syckel and Reddy Schreiner, neighbors
of ours. It was the custom at the first of December every year to drain
out most of the water in the canal, in order to prevent possible injury to
the canal banks from the pressure of the ice. But there was always a
foot or two of water covering the bottom of the canal, and this afforded
a fine skating park of ample width and unlimited length, while the high
canal banks on each side protected us from the bitter wind that was
blowing. Toward noon, however, the wind shifted and swept at a
terrific rate down the narrow lane between the canal banks. We could
scarcely make headway against the blow. It was too much for Bill, who
wasn't as used to skating as we were. He sat down in a sheltered nook
and commenced to think. When Bill sat down to think it always meant
that something was going to happen, as we soon learned.
"Say, Jim," said he to me, "have you got any canvas up at the house?"
"No," I replied. "What do you want it for?"
"I want to rig up a skate sail. If you have an old sheet, that will do just
as well."
"Well, I guess I can find you an old sheet. Do you think you can make
one?"
"Sure thing," answered Bill, and off we went to the house, where I
received my first lesson on the practical genius of my chum.
[Illustration: Fig. 3. Laying Out the Sail.]

"Bill's" Skate Sail.
The old sheet which Mother furnished us was laid out on the floor and
two corners were folded over to the center as shown in the drawing,
making a triangle with base 7 feet long and sides each about 4 feet 6
inches long. The surplus end piece was then cut off, and a broad hem
turned and basted all around the edges of the triangle. Bill wanted to
work the sewing machine himself, but Mother was afraid he would
break something, so she sewed down the hem for us. Then, under Bill's
supervision, she re-enforced the corners by sewing on patches of cloth.
Along the diagonal a strip of heavy tape was sewed, leaving loops at
intervals, which afterward were cut and provided means for tying the
sail to the mast. Tie strings of tape were also sewed at the corners, as
shown in the illustration, and then a trip was made to the garden in
search of suitable spars. A smooth bean pole of about the right weight
served for the mast, and another stick with a crotch at one end served as
the boom or cross-spar. The spars were cut to proper length, and the
sail was then tied on, as illustrated, with the crotch of the cross-spar
fitted against and tied to the center of the mast. A light rope, long
enough to provide plenty of slack, was tied to the ends of the mast to
assist in guiding the sail when in use. In the meantime I had procured
another sheet from one of our neighbors, and Bill helped me make a
sail for myself. It was not until long after dark that we finished our
work.
[Illustration: Fig. 4. The Tape Tie Strings.]
[Illustration: Fig. 5. "Bill's" Sail Complete.]

Willow Clump Island.
The next day we tried the sails and it didn't take me very long to learn
how to steer the device. The wind had changed again and this time
blew up the canal. We took the line of least resistance, and went
skimming up the ice lane like birds for several miles before