TRYING OUT A MOTOR CANOE 



481 



poor little canoe under a shed in the yard, 

 stripped of her canvas. Her forlorn ap- 

 pearance touched my heart, and I went 

 after the express man and carried her out. 

 "Where '11 you take her now?" he asked, 

 "Brown's," I answered, laconically and 

 moodily. 



Mr. Brown was in his shop and became 

 deeply interested in the canoe. He approved 

 of my plans and promised to start the work 

 the first thing Monday morning. I went 

 around on Saturday (our office closes at 

 noon on Saturdays), and the assistant told 



the piece of plank (in the right corner). 



No work had been done on it, but it was 

 a plank, which was convincing. 



The next week Brown was sober. J was 

 surprised at this, for I could not imagine 

 how any man could work alongside of thai 

 astigmatized assistant and keep sober. But 

 the Fayette was untouched; so I again 

 sought out the expressman. 



"I was expectin' yer along 'bout this 

 time," he said, cheerfully. I began to hate 

 that man also. I suspected that he was in 

 league with all the boat builders of the 









THE CREW NAVIGATES WITHOUT THE SKIPPER S AID 



me cheerfully that Mr. Brown was "full." 

 The assistant was very cross-eyed — I think 

 I have never seen a man so cross-eyed. I 

 could not imagine how he could distinguish 

 the port from the starboard side of a boat. 

 But he was a pleasant young man, and he 

 told me confidently that they would start 

 on the canoe on Monday morning. 



Saturday came round again — and / 

 came around again — and learned that 

 Brown was still "full." It was not the 

 same "full," the assistant hastened to 

 explain ; it was a bran-new one, with 

 trimmings. He added, also, that they 

 planned to commence on the Fayette on 

 Monday morning. He said, "Over there," 

 looking at two corners of the shop at once, 

 "is the plank for the engine-bed." 



After going to the wrong corner I found 



neighborhood, in order to secure a steady 

 income from me for express charges. We 

 again loaded on the denuded Fayette, and 

 I climbed onto the high seat. 



"Where'll you take her to next?" in- 

 quired the man, with a gentle smile. 



I did not answer immediately. It seemed 

 to me that I was doomed to spend the 

 summer hauling my canoe about the town 

 from one boat builder to another. 



"There's a young feller doin' repairs at 

 the Waupsee Boat Club," said the express- 

 man. "They say he's a crackerjack — an' 

 he's got a little shop. Mebbe he'll do it for 

 yer. His name's Jones." 



We drove to Jones' and found him in his 

 shop. He was a clean, workmanlike young 

 fellow, and had a clean, workmanlike 

 shop. Greatly to my surprise he didn't 



