The Voyage of the Hoppergrass

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Dear Philip,—
This is the book you have asked me about,—once or twice. You remember The Believing Years, don't you? That was a book about some boys I knew, and although it was written for grown-up readers, there were boys—yourself amongst them—who claimed to have read it.
This story is about boys and men. There are two kinds of pirates in it. One kind is for readers from about eight years old to, say, sixteen. The other kind is recommended from sixteen up to ninety- seven, or eight. There are other things beside the pirates, of course.
It would do no harm, I think, after you have read the book, to let your Father try it. And if Elizabeth and Katharine think they would like it, why, give them 'a chance to find out. That is an advantage girls have over us,—they usually like our books, while we seldom care very much for theirs. I have sent Constance a copy, so you will not have to lend this one to her.
Your uncle,
July 28, 1913
(The anniversary of the sailing of the Hoppergrass. )
It was a lucky thing that the Hoppergrass was a large boat. When we started there were only four of us,—counting Captain Bannister. But we kept picking up passengers—unexpected ones— until the Captain said we'd have the whole County on board. It was not as bad as that, but we were glad before we came home again, that we had a comfortable cabin, with plenty of sleeping room.
She was a big, white cat-boat, with her name in gilt letters on the stern. On the day when our voyage began she lay quietly at anchor, well out toward the middle of the river. It was still early,—shortly after five of a morning in July. The river was quiet, with only one or two boats moving,—as quiet as the streets of the town through which we had walked on our way to the wharf. There had been a shower just before daylight, and this had discouraged us a little, but now the sun was coming through the clouds, and there were white spirals of mist rising from the water. Across the river, on Fisher's Island, two or three men were moving about their dories, and smoke poured steadily from the chimneys of the houses. A man's head looked out of the cabin of the Hoppergrass.