“I had no idea she was so pretty,” said Will.  “She is a true, stanch little sailer.”

“She don’t show off until she is on the water,” said Greta, smiling, “and then she sails like a real boat.  Do you know what I am going to do when I get to the other side?”

“I can guess.  You will send your boat back to me from below the island while I hold this end of the cord.  That will bring the line around my ship and pull her off.”

“I thought of that, but it is too risky.  If anything should go wrong with my boat, the line might get tangled; or there might be too great a strain, and the ship would come off with a jerk and be tumbled bottom upward into the water.  I intend to untie the cord from the boat, and you and I must walk slowly down toward the ’America,’—­I on that side, and you on this.  We must hold the cord low so as to catch the mast under the sail, if we can.”

“All right,” said Will.

Greta walked quickly down the bank, across the bridge, and up the other side until she reached the “Wilhelmina.”  Placing the boat on the bank for safety, she took the cord off, and, holding it firmly, walked slowly down toward the island.  Will did the same on his side of the pool.  The cord went skimming over the surface of the water, then it passed above the tops of the long grass on the island.  This brought the line on a level with the top-sail.  This would not do; for a pressure up there might capsize the schooner.  Both of the workers saw that they must slacken the line a little to get it into the proper place.  Now was the critical time; if the line was too much slackened it might slip under the vessel and upset it that way.  Gently they lowered it until it lay against the mainmast below the sail.

“Take care!” screamed Will to Greta.

“Go slow!” screamed Greta to Will.

Gently they pulled against the schooner, and, inch by inch, she floated off into the open water.

“Hurrah!” shouted Will, as the “America” gave herself a little shake, and, catching the wind, sailed slowly and somewhat unsteadily for the home port, which, however, she reached in safety.  “Wind up the cord!” shouted Greta, just in time to prevent Will’s throwing it aside.  He wondered what further use she had for the cord.  It might go to the bottom of the pool for aught he cared, now that the ship was safe.  But he wound it up as directed.  It would have been quite a grief to the thrifty little Dutch girl if so much fine cord had been wasted.

Thus ignominiously came in the stately ship “America,” which Will had set afloat with such pride!  And it is doubtful whether she would have come in at all, but for the stanch Dutch canal-boat that he had regarded with a good deal of disdain.

If Will had been a girl, he would have exhausted the complimentary adjectives of the Dutch language in praise of his cousin; but being a boy, he only said, “Thank you, Greta.”