"Poor old man! And to think we can't even bring him a thermos of chicken broth," deplored Louise.
The sail boat was gliding over the water, proudly as the clouds themselves drifted overhead. The Westbrook girls were allowing their visitors full scope of the graceful craft, but objected definitely to Grace taking a ride in the little dory that raced behind. Grace thought such a feat would be a genuine lark, but Captain Mae reminded her that the Sandy Hook Bay was not the placid little Glimmer Lake she had been accustomed to sporting upon.
Down in the cabin a real tea was served at four o'clock, and if automobiling is conducive to real appetites, sailing leads to the port of hunger-pangs; and as an alleviative Orange Pekoe, cheese, cookies, lettuce sandwiches, with peanut butter and other conserves, can be heartily recommended, according to the Log of the Blowell, as inscribed that day by the True Treds.
"All hands on the deck," ordered Cleo, in mock severity, when cracker tins and tea cups were being worked to the point of refined cruelty.
"Aye, aye, sir," replied Grace, being first to reach deck.
"Shall we sing 'Starboard watch ahoy!' or 'Little Jack'?" Margaret asked.
"No, let's sing 'Sailing!'" suggested Julia.
"Who knows any of the words?" inquired Louise. "The title sounds appropriate, but it would take more words to fill out a tune!"
"Starboard watch ahoy! Starboard watch ahoy! And who can feel-e-e-eel, while on the blue the vessel ke-e-ell." This was Cleo's contribution done in all sharps, and as Louise warned them, the title wouldn't do for a girl-sized song.
"No, that's too old," objected Helen. "It's out of print. Try 'Sailing.'"