"Ballast bricks? Why, anyone knows that these are the bricks brought over in the hold, my lad, should there not be sufficient cargo, both to make ballast for the vessel and to sell once here. English bricks are cheaper than those we can make ourselves. Did you not know, young man," he said, frowning with disapproval, "that our bricks for building houses have all come from British kilns?"
"No sir, thank you sir," Chris said, and moved away, not in the least abashed.
How I should have loved to have told him I didn't belong in this age anyway, and that in my time, we do make our own bricks! he chuckled to himself.
Further on, a ship being painted a dazzling white caught their eyes.
"The Mirabelle!" Chris cried, running forward, and sure enough, black and gold letters along her bow pronounced that indeed it was the Mirabelle.
"I'd know those lines anywhere!" Chris said to Amos, and the two boys stood gazing at Mr. Wicker's ship.
The Mirabelle was a three-masted schooner of more than usually trim lines. Even at the dockside, the curve of her bow gave an instant vision of how the waves would curl back as she drove forward over the sea. At the waterline, a clear light green contrasted well with the white of her sides. Above decks, the size of the masts and neatly furled sails showed at a glance that the Mirabelle was hardy enough to weather many a storm, and also that her crew were able and well trained.
Looking about, Chris soon spied Ned Cilley, on deck lounging against the side of the ship and smoking his pipe. Master Cilley's eyes lit up as he saw his friends, and hurrying down the gangplank, shook them by the hand as warmly as if he had not seen them for a month, instead of just the night before when he had shared with them what Becky termed, "a taste, a mere spoonful" of supper.
"Eh well, lookee here!" he exclaimed, delighted. "Chris and Amos, by me soul!" Ned Cilley beamed on them and leaned back on his heels for a better view. "Lookin' about, lads? Eh, that's the way. Is she not the finest ship that ever ye did rest your eyes on?"
The boys were agreeing enthusiastically when a remarkable couple came into sight, pacing the decks of the Mirabelle. Soon the watchers were given a better look, for the two men came down the gangplank to examine cases that had been brought to the dock for loading, and Chris and Amos were hard put to it not to laugh out loud at the comical pair.