The freckle-faced little girl was wild with excitement when she got aboard Darry’s yacht. She had never been on such a craft before.
“I declare,” said Amy, “we’ll have to put a ball and chain on this kid, or she will be overboard.”
Henrietta stared at her. “Is that one of those locket and chain things you wear around your neck? I’m going to buy me one when I get my island. I never did own any joolry.”
This set Amy off into a breeze of laughter, but Jessie realized that Henrietta was perfectly fearless and would need watching while they were on the yacht.
The Marigold was by no means a new vessel, but it was roomy and seaworthy. That it was a coal-burner rather than a modern oil-burner, or with gasoline engines, did not at all decrease its value in the eyes of its young owner. Darry Drew was inordinately proud of the yacht.
He ran it with a small crew, and he and Burd, or whoever of his boy friends he had aboard, did a share of the work.
“I declare!” sniffed Amy, “I suppose you will expect Jess and me to go down and stoke the furnaces for you if you get short handed. Why not? You expect Mrs. Norwood and mamma to do the cooking.”
“Oh, that’s only for this voyage. When we have only fellows aboard we all take turns cooking and get along all right.”
“Does Burd cook?” demanded Amy, in mock horror.
“Well, he is pretty bad,” admitted Darry, with a grin. “But we let him cook only on days when the sea is rough.”