“Heaven forbid!” ejaculated Mary Ann, devoutly.  “And, to be sure, there’s plenty of people that gets on very successfully in the world, that don’t seem to deserve to prosper half as much as others we know of.  But God sees what we don’t, and this much we may be certain of:  wrong-doin’ is always punished sooner or later; while we know that, in the end, those that tries to do right gets their full share of blessin’s and a good bit over and above.  I’m not sayin’ indeed that ye won’t build yer boat, only that if ye neglect yer duty ye’ll have reason to regret it.”

“Well, don’t cast an ‘evil eye’ on the boat, anyway,” said Jim; “for if we don’t finish it, how can we ever give you a row on the creek?”

“Is it I ride in yer boat!” exclaimed Mary Ann, who was stout and short-breathed.  The idea of trusting herself to the tender mercies of the lads, and venturing into any craft of their construction, was so ludicrous that she forgot her vexation and laughed heartily.  “Faith, it’s fine ballast I’d be for ye!” she said.  “And is it in the middle of the river ye’d be landin’ me?  Thank ye kindly, but I’ll not go a pleasurin’ with ye.  And as for an ‘evil eye,’ troth ye’re but makin’ game of my want of book-larnin’.  But well I know there’s no such thing; and if there was, it could never harm ye or yer work if ye were doin’ right.  So now be off with ye to the store, and bring me five pounds of sugar, quick as ye can.  And if ye take the molasses jug along and get it filled—­well, this once I’ll beat up a batch of cookies, so ye can have some for yer lunch at school to-morrow.”

III.

At last the wonderful boat was pronounced finished.  It had obviously not been modeled with an eye to beauty—­was flat as the barn floor, square at both ends, and entirely lacking in the curves which constitute the grace of the seabird-like craft which are the delight of yachtmen.  Nevertheless, the boys were proud of it.  It was their own:  they had built it themselves.

“There she is, complete from bow to stern!” exclaimed Jack, with a satisfied air.

“Yes,” responded Leo, admiringly.  “But”—­hesitating—­“but—­which is the bow and which the stern, you know—­eh?”

“Why, this end, stupid!  Don’t you see I’ve marked it with a cross?” answered Jack.

“Perhaps I am stupid,” thought Leo; “for I don’t understand now how one end can be both.  I wish Jack would be a little more particular about explaining a thing.  It’s queer how few fellows are!  They jumble their words all up, and think that because they know what they mean, you ought to understand, of course.”

“Well,” observed Jim, quizzically, “she isn’t quite as handsome as the barges on the lake in the park, that float up and down, looking like white swans.  Yes, I guess she’ll do.”

“We didn’t set out to build a gondola, to paddle children and nursery maids around in,” retorted Rob, with a withering glance.  “She’s a good, serviceable boat, and safe—­”