“I don’t know but what you’re right, mate. What’d we call her if we did?”
“Well, how about the Harmony, Captain? That sounds rather appropriate, doesn’t it?”
“The Harmony, mate? You’re right—the Harmony. Shall we? Put ’er there!”
“Put her there,” replied the mate with a will. “We’ll organize a new crew right away, Captain—eh, don’t you think?”
“Right! Wait, we’ll call the bos’n an’ see what he says.”
Just then the bos’n appeared, smiling goodnaturedly.
“Well, what’s up?” he inquired, noting our unusually cheerful faces, I presume. “You ain’t made it up, have you, you two?” he exclaimed.
“That’s what we have, bos’n, an’ what’s more, we’re thinkin’ of raisin’ the old Idlewild an’ re-namin’ her the Harmony, or, rather, buildin’ a new one. What say?” It was the captain talking.
“Well, I’m mighty glad to hear it, only I don’t think you can have your old bos’n’s mate any longer, boys. He’s gonna quit.”
“Gonna quit!” we both exclaimed at once, and sadly, and John added seriously and looking really distressed, “What’s the trouble there? Who’s been doin’ anything to him now?” We both felt guilty because of our part in his pains.