Felix was so disgusted at this failure that he would not listen to anything Oliver could suggest.  He walked back to the spot where he had worked so many weeks, and sat down with his face turned from the pool.  It was not so much the actual circumstance which depressed him, as the long train of untoward incidents which had preceded it for years past.  These seemed to have accumulated, till now this comparatively little annoyance was like the last straw.

Oliver followed him, and said that the defect could be remedied by placing ballast on the more buoyant side of the canoe to bring it down to the level of the other; or, perhaps, if some more wood were cut away on the heavier side, that it would cause it to rise.  He offered to do the work himself, but Felix, in his gloomy mood, would not answer him.  Oliver returned to the pool, and getting into the canoe, poled it up and down the stream.  It answered perfectly, and could be easily managed; the defect was more apparent than real, for when a person sat in the canoe, his weight seemed to bring it nearly level.

It was only when empty that it canted to one side.  He came back again to Felix, and pointed this out to him.  The attempt was useless; the boat might answer the purpose perfectly well, but it was not the boat Felix had intended it to be.  It did not come up to his ideal.

Oliver was now somewhat annoyed at Felix’s sullen silence, so he drew the canoe partly on shore, to prevent it from floating away, and then left him to himself.

Nothing more was said about it for a day or two.  Felix did not go near the spot where he had worked so hard and so long, but on the Saturday Philip came home as usual, and, as there was now no secret about the canoe, went down to look at it with Oliver.  They pushed it off, and floated two or three miles down the stream, hauling it on the shore past the fallen fir tree, and then, with a cord, towed it back again.  The canoe, with the exception of the trifling deficiency alluded to, was a good one, and thoroughly serviceable.

They endeavoured again to restore Felix’s opinion of it, and an idea occurring to Philip, he said a capital plan would be to add an outrigger, and so balance it perfectly.  But though usually quick to adopt ideas when they were good, in this case Felix was too much out of conceit with himself.  He would listen to nothing.  Still, he could not banish it from his mind, though now ashamed to return to it after so obstinately refusing all suggestions.  He wandered aimlessly about in the woods, till one day he found himself in the path that led to Heron Bay.

Strolling to the shore of the great Lake, he sat down and watched a vessel sailing afar off slowly before the east wind.  The thought presently occurred to him, that the addition of an outrigger in the manner Philip had mentioned would enable him to carry a sail.  The canoe could not otherwise support a sail (unless a very small one merely for going before the breeze), but with such a sail as the outrigger would bear, he could venture much farther away from land, his voyage might be much more extended, and his labour with the paddle lessened.