"Go on, Hi," said his companion; "ye got to tell it, an' ye might as well start an' git through."
Hiram straightened himself up with a jerk, ran the red fingers through his shock of dust-brown hair, and began: "Well, sir, I s'pose we two boys is a pair o' fools, an' that's the truth. But we'll know better nex' time. You see, it ain't very much of a country down there on the Jersey coast, except in the summer, when the city people is there, an' then what is it? Only drivin' a hack, or takin' a gentleman out fishin', or somethin' o' that sort. So Dave an' I this spring got mighty tired o' the whole business, an' we made up our minds that we'd got to git out. So one day we was a-settin' on the beach talkin' about it, an' Dave he says to me to look at a schooner wot was goin' down to the south'ard. An' he says to me, wot was the matter with goin' to New York an' shippin' on one o' them schooners an' goin' to the West Injies, or Savannah, or Halifax, or some sich place? Right off it seemed to me that was about the finest scheme I'd ever heard of. But we didn't have much money betwixt—only sixty-four cents—an' the question were how to git to New York. First off, Dave thought it would be the best way for him to take the money an' go to York, an' when he'd earned enough to send for me. But I was mistrustful o' bein' left behind an' seein' Dave wave his hat at me some day from the deck o' one o' them schooners goin' South."
Mr. Whittingham lay back in his chair and shook with laughter, while Dave Hulick looked at Hiram with a countenance full of solemn reproach.
"Well, you know you'd 'a' done it, Dave," said Hiram, as he continued with his story. "After talkin' the thing over for a good while, I proposed that we pervision Dave's father's smallest fishin' skiff with them sixty-four cents an' sail for York. Dave he said it weren't fair for him to furnish twenty-eight cents an' the boat, an' me only thirty-six cents. But I told him the boat didn't cost him nothin', an' he had to allow that I was tellin' the truth; so he agreed to my plan. I ain't a-goin' to stop to tell you all the botheration we had a-gettin' them pervisions an' gettin' 'em stored ready for shippin'. Land sakes! Folks was so mighty curious that I 'most lost my wits inventin' answers for all their questions."
"All about sixty-four cents' worth of provisions?" inquired Mr. Whittingham, who could not conceal his amusement.
"Jest that, sir, an' nothin' else," replied Hiram, gravely. "Well, at last everything was all ready, an' bright an' 'arly one fine mornin' we slipped out an' down to the beach. Of course it wasn't no great shakes of a matter for us two boys to launch the boat an' get out through the surf. Mr. George he knows that, 'cause he's often gone out with us. Well, when we got out there wasn't enough wind to sail, the ocean bein' as smooth as one o' the plate-glass winders in Bill Smock's drug-store. So we had to get to work an' row. There was other boats goin' out, an' my sakes alive! what a lot of questions we had to answer! Seems to me there wasn't any reason for 'em, either, 'cause we boys often went out fishin'. But anyhow we pulled along till we got well to the north'ard o' Joppa an' out o' reach o' questions, an' then Dave he struck work. 'Blowed if I'm goin' to row all the way to York,' says he. Didn't you, Dave?"
"That's wot I said," was Dave's laconic answer.
"We set the mast an' sail, an' let her drift. It was a putty middlin' hot day, an' along in the early afternoon, when we hadn't got more'n five or six miles to the north'ard, I reckon both of us fell asleep. I don't know how long we was asleep, but I know what woke us up. The blamed boat turned turtle."
"What—upset?" exclaimed Mr. Whittingham.