Harry, who was about a year older than Frank, was
a very impulsive fellow, and in a moment of excitement often said and
did things for which he felt sorry when he had time to think the
matter over; but he was generous and good-hearted, and if he found
that he had wronged any one, he never failed to make ample reparation.
George, who was just Frank's age, was a jolly, good-natured boy, and
would suffer almost any indignity rather than retaliate.
"Well, Frank," said Harry, as soon as they came within speaking
distance, "George and I wanted a little exercise, so we thought we
would row up and see what had become of you. Why don't you come down
and see a fellow? Hallo!" he exclaimed, on noticing the change in the
Speedwell's appearance, "what have you been trying to do with your old
scow?"
"Why, don't you see?" said Frank. "I've been trying to make a yacht
out of her."
"How does she sail?" inquired George.
"I don't know. I have just finished her, and have not had time to try
her sailing qualities yet."
"I don't believe she will sail worth a row of pins," said Harry,
confidently, as he drew the skiff alongside the Speedwell, and climbed
over into her.
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