"I like the name, just as it is," I said.
"Do yer?" inquired the Captain. "Well, there's no accountin' for tastes, as the man said when he found the monkey eatin' glue."
This seemed to be a joke on me. Ed and Jimmy joined the Captain in laughing, and I felt rather put down. But we soon had something else to think of, for we went on another tack to enter Sandy Island River. A bridge crossed this river, not far from the mouth, and the draw had to be turned to let us through. Ed Mason got a long fish-horn from the cabin, and began to blow it. After a while the old draw-tender, who lived in a shanty, quarter of a mile away, came hobbling up the road. He slowly swung open the draw, and then, as we approached the bridge, peered down at us.
"This yer new boat, Lem?" said he to the Captain.
"This is her, right enough," said our skipper.
"Sets kinder high in the water, don't she?"
The aged draw-tender had the air of a man who was expected to find fault, and was quite able to do it.
"Hadn't noticed it," replied the Captain, shortly.
He was attending closely to sailing the boat through the narrow gap in the bridge. The old man cackled.
"Guess you'll find, when you git her outside, that them boys 'll wish you had some more ballast in her."