And what a dinner that was!  Rod remembered it long afterwards, and how Mrs. Britt sat there smiling upon him, and urging him to have “just one more piece of pie, and another cruller.”  Never before had he felt so important.  He was the guest being treated with such respect.  When holding the tiller that morning he had longed for Sammie Dunker and the rest of the boys to see him.  So now, sitting near the bluff old captain and his wife, he desired the same thing.  He felt quite sure that no other boy in the whole parish had been so honoured, and if his schoolmates ever heard of it, they would be sure to look upon him as a person of great importance.

When dinner was over, Captain Josh pushed back his chair, filled and lighted his pipe.  Rod was surprised that he did not return thanks when they were through, as was the custom at the rectory.

“I’m very thankful for that dinner, Mrs. Josh,” he remarked.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, dear,” was the reply.

“Yes, I did.  It was so good that I want to thank God for it.  Do you mind?”

“No, certainly not,” and Mrs. Britt glanced anxiously toward her husband.  But when she saw the captain take his pipe out of his mouth, and bow his shaggy head while the boy repeated the few words of thanks he had been taught, a feeling of gratitude came into her heart, and her eyes became moist.

There was silence for a few minutes when Rod finished.  The captain puffed at his pipe, while Mrs. Britt began to clear away the dishes.

“Kin ye swim, lad?” Captain Josh suddenly asked, in his deep gruff voice.

“No, I can’t,” was the somewhat nervous reply.

“Ever been in the water?”

“Oh, yes.  Lots of times.”

“And ye can’t swim.  Well, ye’ll have to git over that if ye’re round where I am.”

“Can you swim, Captain Josh?” Rod asked.

“Ho, ho,” and the old man leaned back in his chair and shook with laughter.  “Kin I swim?  Why, boy, I could swim before I was as old as you.  When I was fifteen I could swim across the river.”

“You could!” and Rod’s eyes shone with admiration.  “Did you ever swim across the ocean, captain?”

“Not quite, lad.  Not quite that far.”

“Well, then, I will some day, Captain Josh,” Rod cried, as he rose to his feet, and stood erect.  “When I’m a man, I’ll swim across the ocean and back again before breakfast, see if I don’t.”

“That’ll be quite an undertakin’, lad,” and the captain’s eyes twinkled.  “I hope I’ll be standin’ on the shore when ye git back.  I guess ye’ll have more cause fer thankfulness then than ye did after eatin’ yer dinner to-day.  But come,” and he rose suddenly to his feet; “I want ye to help me put out my net.  Ye must take a nice fresh pickerel home with ye when ye go.”

What a wonderful afternoon that was to Rod!  Most of the time was spent upon the water, and he received his first real instructions about the handling of the Roaring Bess, the ropes, sail, port and starboard, to say nothing of his lesson in splicing.  There was also the swim in the little secluded cove, with the captain as an excellent teacher.  Rod little realised that he was being thoroughly sounded as to his qualities and capabilities.