“You say she’s going to carry a topsail and top-gallant-sail; the topmast backstays would protect them from the boom; and as for the rest, you could carry spare ones in case of accident.”
“That might do; but wouldn’t the straps of your dead-eyes split the end of the stick?”
“Treenail it.”
“Where could you get spars long enough, without having them two thirds as large as the mast?”
“Make them in pieces,” said Charlie. “Split up a large tree with the whip-saw: I can find a big ash that will make four, or a spruce or yellow birch.”
“Well, you can do it; but I should prefer rope.”
“To be sure, father; but if we are hard up, put right up snug to it, we’ll do it, sure.”
When, afterwards, Ben told his father of this novel method of economy, the captain laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks.
“I wonder,” said he, “what they won’t think of next. I always thought myself indifferently good for contrivance; but they go ahead of me.”
“They’ve made first-rate calculations, thus far, in everything.”