"You _ride_ in an
automobile, but you _sail_ in a boat."
"I don't see why ride isn't just as appropriate as sail in this case,"
said Will, sitting on a suitcase beside Amy, with his back against the
rail, prepared to argue the point. "Especially since this old tub has
never known a sail."
"Betty," Frank said, turning to that young person who was gazing
dreamily out over the water, "what did they put in that basket when we
stopped at the hotel this afternoon?"
"What?" she said, bringing her mind down to every-day things with an
effort. "Oh, the basket! I wouldn't dare tell you that," she added, with
sudden animation. "Boys, boys, if you could only see inside--if you only
could--oh, how your mouths would water!"
"Just think," said Grace, tragically. "Here we have everything that goes
to make up a romantic sail----"
"What, for instance?" Roy demanded. "If you call a leaky old ferryboat
with the weather so damp that you can't touch the rail without feeling
as if you have had a dip in the briny--if that's what you call romantic,
then give me a good open fire and plenty of chicken bones to gnaw.
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