“I think ‘Rattletrap’ would be a good name,” said Jack.

“I don’t think it’s a very pretty name,” I replied.

“You wait till you get acquainted with that wagon, and you will say it’s the best name in the world, whether it’s pretty or not.  You don’t know that wagon yet.  The tongue is spliced, the whiffletrees are loose, the reach is cracked, the box is tied together with a rope, the springs creak, the wheels wabble, lean different ways, and never follow one another.”

“Do they all turn in the same direction?” I asked.

“I don’t believe they do.  It would be just like one to turn backward while the other three were going forward.”

“We’ll call our craft the Rattletrap, then.  Good-night.”

“Good-night,” said Jack; and we parted, each to dream of our approaching cruise.

[Illustration:  Preparations]

In a week we were busy getting ready to start.  I found, when I looked over the wagon as it stood back of the cheese-factory, that it was much as Jack had described it, only I noticed that the seat as well as the springs creaked, and that a corner was broken off the dash-board.  But we set to work upon it with a will.  We tightened up the nuts and screws all over it, and wound the broken pole with wire.  We nailed together the box so that the rope could be taken off, and oiled the creaking springs.  We had no trouble in finding a top, as half the people in the country had come in wagons provided with covers only a year or so before.  We got four bows and attached them to the box, one at each end, and the other two at equal distances between.  These bows were made of hard-wood, and were a quarter of an inch thick and an inch and a half wide.  They ran up straight on either side for two or three feet, and then rounded over, like a croquetwicket, being high enough so that as we stood upright in the wagon-box our heads would just nicely clear them.  Over this skeleton we stretched our white canvas cover, and tied it down tightly along the sides.  This made what we called the cabin.  There was an ample flap in front, which could be let down at night and fastened back inside during the day.  At the rear end the cloth folded around, and was drawn together with a “puckering-string,” precisely like a button-bag.  By drawing the string tightly this back end could be entirely closed up; or the string could be let out, and the opening made any size wanted.  After the cover was adjusted we stood off and admired our work.

“Looks like an elephant on wheels,” said Jack.

“Or an old-fashioned sun-bonnet for a giantess,” I added.

“Anyhow, I’ll wager a cheese it’ll keep out the rain, unless it comes down too hard,” said Jack.  “Now for the smaller parts of our rigging, and the stores.”