Sam rolled himself off from the rock, and picked up his little tarred hat, which had fallen upon the sand. 'Well, boys, when shall we go,--to-morrow?' 'Why, can you get the boat ready by that time, Sam?' 'Yes, that is, if old Andrews will let me have it; I guess there will be no fear of that.' 'Well, how shall we know? for if we go to-morrow, we must be up early and pick our strawberries. Shall we come down here to-night, Sam?' 'No; I tell you what we'll do--if I can get the boat, and father will let me go, I won't come up; so, if you don't see me, you may conclude we shall go.' 'Agreed, Sam.' Sam was on good terms with the old man from whom he expected to get the boat, and found no difficulty on that score; it occupied him, however, the remainder of the afternoon in putting her in a condition suitable for their voyage, and even then it was but a frail concern to venture in, where at times the winds were strong and the waters rough. But Sam knew no fear; so taking the oars and thanking his old friend very heartily for his kindness, 'lay to,' and the little skiff flew through the smooth water like a bird. He had accomplished, however, but one part of his work; he had yet to meet his father and obtain his consent, and his heart sunk within him when he thought of home, and the probable condition of things there. He had resolved what course to pursue--he had done wrong, he had spoken improperly to his parent, he must ask his forgiveness before he could be happy. But he knew not in what condition he might find that parent. He rowed his boat up to the rock where he had held the conversation with Jim and Ned--hauled her up on the shore as far as he was able, carried the stone anchor on land, and walked directly towards home, strong in good resolutions, and with some faint hope that things might be better than he feared. He gathered up the horse-shoes as he went along which he had collected on the beach in the afternoon, enough to make a good supper for his pigs; and throwing them over into their pen as he passed, was just entering the door of his dwelling when he met his father, who had his hat on and was going out. Sam saw at a glance that all was right--he cast his eyes down: 'Father, I'm sorry I spoke so this morning.' 'Oh, never mind now, Sam.' And as he saw Sam wiping his eyes, for the tears came fast, 'Never mind now, my boy; it has gone by, and a good many other things I hope too--go in and get your supper.' Sam entered the room, happier than he had been for many a day; his mother's countenance was lighted up with a smile, and his little sister came up and whispered, 'Father ain't been to Grizzle's to day.' Sam looked at his mother and she at him--tears were glistening in both their eyes, but they told only of joy and hope. He soon communicated to his mother his plan for the next day; she made no objections, only she hoped he would take care of himself. 'And may be you'd better speak to your father, Sam.'