Cuthbert was ready enough to accept the advances of this good-natured youth.  He was a stranger in this great city, whilst Jacob knew it well.  He was eager to hear and see and learn all he could; and though Jacob’s ideas were few and his powers of observation limited, he was still able to answer a great many of the eager questions that came crowding to the lips of the stranger as they walked the streets together.  And when Cuthbert accompanied Jacob to his home, Abraham Dyson could fill up all the blank in his son’s story, and was secretly not a little pleased with Cuthbert’s keen intelligence and ready interest.

The Dysons were merchants in a small way of business, but were thriving and thrifty folks.  They and the Holts had been in close relations one with the other for more than one generation, and any relative of Martin Holt’s would have been welcome at their house.  Cuthbert was liked on his own account; and soon he became greatly fascinated by the river-side traffic, took the greatest interest in the vessels that came to the wharves to be unladed, and delighted in going aboard and making friends with the sailors.  He quickly came to learn the name of every part of the ship, and to pick up a few ideas on the subject of navigation.  Whenever a vessel came in from the New World but recently discovered, he would try to get on board and question the sailors about the wonders they had seen.  Afterwards he would discourse to Jacob or to Cherry of the things he had learned, and would win more and more admiration from both by his brilliant powers of imagination and description.

So the river became, as it were, a second home to him.  Abraham Dyson had more than one wherry of his own in which Cuthbert was welcome to skim about upon the broad bosom of the great river.  He soon became so skillful with the rude oars or the sail, that he was a match for the hardiest waterman on the river, and more than once Cherry had been permitted to accompany Cuthbert and Jacob upon some excursion up or down stream.

And now, after many weeks of pleasant comradeship, Cuthbert found himself in the unenviable position of standing rival to his friend in the affections of Cherry, and the more he thought about it the less he liked the situation.  He could not give Cherry up—­that was out of the question; besides, had he renounced her twenty times over, that would not improve Jacob’s case one whit.  Cherry was her father’s own daughter, and, with all her kittenish softness, had a very decided will of her own.  She was not the sort of daughter to be bought and sold, or calmly made over like a bale of wool.  She would certainly insist on having a voice in the matter, and her choice was not likely at any time to fall upon the worthy but unprepossessing Jacob.

All this Cuthbert understood with the quick apprehension of a lover; but it was very doubtful if Jacob would so see things, and Cuthbert felt as though there was something of treachery in accepting and returning his many advances of friendship whilst all the time he was secretly affianced to the girl for whose hand Jacob had made formal application, and had been formally accepted, though for the present, on account of the maiden’s tender years, the matter was allowed to stand over.