“What rot!” yelled Jack, “the very idea!  Why, Aunt Mary, you know you can skin up there just like a cat if you only make up your mind to it.  Here, Mitchell, give her a boost and I’ll plant her feet firmly.  Now—­have you got hold of the ropes, Aunt Mary?”

“Oh, mercy—­on—­me!” wailed Aunt Mary, “the yacht is turnin’ a-round an’ the harder I pull the faster it turns.”

“Catch her from above, Burr,” Clover called excitedly; “hook her with anything if you can’t reach her with your hand.”

“Oh, my cap!” shrieked poor Aunt Mary, and the cap went off and she went on up and was landed safe above.

“How on the chart do you suppose we’ll ever unload her?” Jack asked, wide-eyed, as he swung himself quickly after her.

“What man hath done man can do,” quoted Mitchell sententiously, following his lead.

“But no man ever unloaded Aunt Mary,” Clover reminded him, as they brought up the rear.

Then they were all on deck, a chair was brought for the honored guest, and Mitchell introduced his sailing-master who had been drawn to gaze upon the rather novel manner in which she had been brought aboard.

“I want Miss Watkins to have the sail of her life, Renfew,” said Mitchell.  “We aren’t coming back until night.”

“We’ll have sail enough sure, sir,” said Renfew, touching his cap, and then he walked away and the work of starting off began.  A tug had been engaged to tow them out into the breeze and Jack thought it would be nice to show Aunt Mary around while they were being meandered through coal barges, etc.  They went below and Aunt Mary saw everything with a most flattering interest.

“I d’n know but what I’d enjoy a little yacht of my own,” she said to Mitchell.  “I think it’s so amusin’ the way everythin’ turns over into suthin’ else.  I suppose Joshua could learn to sail me—­I wouldn’t want to trust no new man, I know.”

“Why, of course,” said Jack, “and we could all come and visit you, Aunt Mary.”

Aunt Mary smiled hospitably.

“I’d be glad to see you all any day,” she said cordially; “and I shall have a hole in the bottom of the boat for people to go in and out of, and a nice staircase down to it, so you needn’t mind the notion of how you’ll get on and off.”

They all laughed and continued the tour below and Aunt Mary grew more and more enthusiastic for quite a while.  She liked the kitchen and she liked the dining-room.  She thought the arrangement for keeping the table level most ingenious.  Mitchell took her into the main cabin and told her that that was hers for the day.  On the dresser was a photograph of the “Lady Belle” framed in silver, which the young host presented to his guest as a souvenir of the “voyage.”

Aunt Mary’s pleasure was at its height.  Oh, the pity of Fate which makes the apex of everything so very limited as to standing room!  Three minutes after the presentation and acceptation of the photograph Aunt Mary’s glance became suddenly vague, and then especially piercing.