"We will take a little sail, just to see how the boat works."
"She works fust rate, and no mistake," added Monkey, with admiration.
"I'd give more to own this boat than I would to be one of the selectmen," continued Bobtail. "She's a tip-top sea boat. Take the helm, Monkey, and see how nice she steers."
The Darwinian opened his mouth from ear to ear with pleasure as he complied with the request. Of course he fully agreed with all the skipper said. Bobtail walked forward, and then went below. It was about time to be thinking of dinner, though he was not very hungry yet. He looked over the stores of the yacht, to see if there was anything besides bacon for the meal. In a small tub he found some salt pork. One of the lockers under the transom was half full of potatoes; but he discovered no other meat. After this survey he concluded to dine on fish, for he had his lines and salt clams on deck. Returning to the helm, he put the yacht about, and stood up to one of the best of the fishing-grounds.
"Lower the jib," he called to his crew; and when this was done, he directed him to throw over the anchor. "Now, Monkey, catch some fish while I go below and make a fire."
In a few moments Bobtail had a fire in the stove. Washing some potatoes, he pared and sliced them. Three big slices of salt pork in the pan soon produced fat enough to fry them. By this time there was a movement on deck. The Darwinian was pulling in a fish.
"A cod!" shouted Monkey. "He's a nice one, too."
"How big is he?" asked Bobtail.
"Five or six pounds."
"That's enough. Dress him, and cut him up to fry."