The “Boojum” slipped gracefully through the water, with all her sails pulling. Smaller sail boats crossed her bow and their occupants gaily waved handkerchiefs and hands to the little group on the “Boojum.”
Jack’s lazy length was stretched on a striped deck mattress, while Ellen, seated near him on a cushion, watched him with thoughtful and admiring eyes, for in Frances’ breezy western slang, Jack was “easy to look at.” Charlie talked to his fiancée and Mr. Wing pored over a chart, mapping out a course from New London to Newport. Jane and Frances, the two irrepressibles, unhampered by being in love, had elected to sit as far out on the bow as they could without actually straddling the bowsprit. They liked the sting of the salt spray on their faces. Frances pointed to where Mr. Wing was reading the chart and then she and Jane began in chorus:
“He had brought a large map representing the sea
Without the least vestige of land;
And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be
A map they could all understand.”
Mr. Wing laughed and, not to be outdone, went on with the ridiculous tale:
“‘What’s the good of Mercator’s North Poles and Equators,
Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?’