“Far be it from me, John,” I replied humbly and generously, seeing that he had the one point of vantage in this whole institution which would serve admirably as a captain’s cabin--with his consent, of course. It was more or less like a captain’s cabin on a tug-boat, at that, picturesque and with a sea view, as it were. “You be the captain and I’ll be the mate. Far be it from me to infringe on a good old sea dog’s rights. You’re the captain, all right, and this is a plenty good enough cabin. I’m content to be mate. Open up steam, Cap, and we’ll run the boat up and down the yard a few times. Look out the window and see how she blows. It’s ho! for a life on the bounding main, and a jolly old crew are we!” “Right-o, my hearty!” he now agreed, slapping me on the back at the same time that he reached for the steamcock and let off a few preliminary blasts of steam--by way of showing that we were moving, as it were. The idea that we were aboard a real yacht and about to cruise forth actually seized upon my fancy in a most erratic and delightsome way. It did on John’s, too. Plainly we needed some such idyllic dream. Outside was the blue water of the river. Far up and down were many craft sailing like ourselves, I said. Inside of fifteen minutes we had appointed the smith, bos’n, and little Ike, the smith’s helper, the bos’n’s mate. And we had said that the carpenters and turners and millwrights were the crew and that the “guineas” were the scullions. Mentally, we turned the engine-room into the captain’s cabin, and here now was nothing but “Heave ho-s” and “How does she blow thar, Bill-s?” and “Shiver my timbers-s” and “Blast my top-lights-s” for days to come. We “heaved ho” at seven o’clock in the morning when the engine started, “lay to and dropped anchor” at noon when the engine stopped, “hoisted and set sail” again at one, for heaven knows what port, and “sighted Spike” and “put hard to port” at six. Sometimes during the day when it was hot and we were very tired we took ideal runs to Coney and Manhattan Beach and Newport, where the best of breezes are, in imagination, anyhow, and we found it equally easy to sail to all points of the compass in all sorts of weather. Many was the time we visited Paris and London and Rome and Constantinople, all in the same hour, regardless, and our calls upon the nobility of these places were always a matter of light comment. At night we always managed to promptly haul up at Spike, which was another subject of constant congratulation between the captain and the mate. For if we had missed our trains and gotten home late!--Regardess of the fact that we were seafaring men, we wanted our day to end promptly, I noticed.