“Well, she is,” retorted Sue. “Maybe her real name’s Patricia.”
“My boat is the Witch Cat and Kate’s the Hurricane,” said Ted slowly; “so we shall not have the trouble of naming ours.”
“Tom says my boat is called the Spray. Do you like that, Polly?”
“Yes, I do,” said Polly. “Don’t you?”
“Not very much. I thought I’d change it to the Lurline, or Lorelie.”
“I like the Spray the best. The name of the yacht Dorothy and Bess Vaughan sail is the Nixie. You don’t want to get too near to that. Crullers, have you named yours? It’s the smallest one in the lot, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Her name is the Yum-Yum. The sail is like a junk boat’s,” Crullers announced, thoughtfully; “or a bat’s wing.”
“Tom says the boys fitted it out that way, just for a novelty. It’s broad, and deep, and wide, and positively unsinkable.”
“I’ve got two life preservers, and three ring buoys in the lockers,” Crullers said. “Tom and the Captain put them in there so I’d feel perfectly safe and easy.”
“Safe and easy? Safe and easy?” Aunty Welcome’s voice came from the kitchen. “Dey ain’t nuffin on earth could make me feel easy a-sailing round on de face ob de deep like a leviathan. You couldn’t get me on dat waste of waters in sech a li’l’ boat for all de gold in de bowels ob de earth. No, sah.”