“A sloop of two hundred tons! Why, who ever heard of such a thing!” said Charlie. “The most of brigs are not more than that, many less. I never saw a sloop bigger than eighty-five tons.”
“I saw one last week, in Boston, that had just arrived from Liverpool with a load of salt, that was one hundred and fifteen. If you want to carry timber, you must have some bigness, and if spars, some length.”
“But what an awful mainsail! How could you ever handle it?”
“I’ll take care of that part of it. Shorten the mast, and put a good part of the canvas into a topsail, top-gallant sail, and jibs.”
“I never saw a sloop with a topsail,” said Fred.
“They are common enough,” said Isaac, “though not round here.”
“Now,” said Charlie, “it is best to have a fair understanding. I think we can build this vessel, although you want a larger one than I had expected. We are used to working together, are of one mind, and, as Fred says, never undertook to do anything we didn’t accomplish; but it will be a hard, trying thing, and we may have to leave off two or three times, and go to work at something else to earn money to go on again.”
“I will go mate till you get her done, no matter how long it is. I shall be contented if I have something to look forward to.”
“I suppose,” said Fred, “Captain Rhines or Mr. Ben would help us out if we got stuck.”
“Not with my consent,” said John. “If we’ve got to fall back on the old folks, I’ll have nothing to do with it.”