"Can you steer?"
"Ay sir," I answered glibly, "I can reef and steer. I can make a man-rope knot, crown a lanyard, tie a reef-knot, or toss a royal bunt!"
"I fear," he said dryly, "that you are too expert for our forecastle. The men will be jealous of you. How are you as a cook?"
"I can make coffee and peel potatoes," I said more humbly, "and I know how to fry potatoes, and bacon, roast beefsteak, and cook oatmeal."
"Get your things and come aboard," he said, "such an all-around fellow is spoiling on shore."
I was by no means a greenhorn aboard a schooner. No boy could grow up in a seaport town without becoming familiar with ships, and be sure that I was no exception. The wharf and river had been my play region since earliest childhood. There were a number of yawls and cutters which the boys of the town were allowed to use when their owners did not require them, and in these we held mimic warfare, playing at buccaneers, or pretending that we were Yankee sailors fighting off English press-gangs. Sometimes a kindly skipper would allow us to explore his vessel, and there was always an old sailor of deck or dock willing to show a lad how to tie a rope or haul in a sail. Thus I became familiar with sailing ships from stem to stern and from the main royal truck to the keel.
CHAPTER V MY FIRST VOYAGE
"Now, my brave boys, comes the best of the fun.