"Oh, we'll try and get our share of 'em," our fellows called back. There was a young woman on the next dock--one of the kind that quite often come down to take snap-shots. A stranger to Gloucester she must have been, for not only that Gloucester girls don't generally come down to the docks to see the fishermen off, but she said good-by to us. She meant all right, but she should never have said good-by to a fisherman. It's unlucky. Too many of them don't come back, and then the good-by comes true. Andie Howe looked a funny sight when we were making sail. Clancy, who, once he got started, took a lot of stopping, was still going: "Oh, the Johnnie Duncan, fast and able-- Good-by, dear, good-by, my Mabel-- And will you save a kiss for me When I come back from sea?" "Yes," roared Andie, "And don't forget I love you, dear, And save a kiss for me," with the salt water dripping from his fine new suit of clothes and the patent-leather shoes he was so fond of. And Clancy again: "Oh, a deep blue sky and a deep blue sea And a blue-eyed girl awaiting me," and Howe, "Oh, too-roo-roo and a too-roo-ree And a hi-did-dy ho-did-dy ho-dee-dee," and Clancy, "Too-roo-roo and a too-roo-ree, The Johnnie Duncan's going to sea," and Howe--a little shy on the words-- "Tum-did-dy dum-did-dy dum-did-dy-dum, Hoo-roo-roo and a dum by gum." And by that time the gang were joining in and sheeting flat the topsails with a great swing. I don't suppose that Gloucester Harbor will ever again look as beautiful to me as it did that morning when we sailed out. Forty sail of seiners leaving within two hours, and to see them going--to see them one after another loose sails and up with them, break out anchors, pay off, and away! It was the first day of April and the first fine day in a week, and those handsome vessels going out one after the other in their fresh paint and new sails--it was a sight to make a man's heart thump. "The Johnnie Duncan, seiner of Gloucester--watch her walk across the Bay to-day," was George Moore's little speech when he came on deck to heave his first bucket of scraps over the rail. George was cook. And she did walk. We squared away with half a dozen others abreast of us and Eastern Point astern of us all. Among the forty sail of fishermen that were standing across the Bay that morning we knew we'd find some that could sail. There was the Ruth Ripley, Pitt Ripley's vessel. He worked her clear of the bunch that came out of the harbor and came after us, and we had it with him across to Cape Cod. Forty miles before we beat him; but Pitt Ripley had a great sailer in the Ruth, and we would have been satisfied to hold her even. "Only wait till by and by, when we get her in trim," we kept saying. "This one'll smother some of them yet," said Eddie Parsons, looking back at the Ruth. He felt pretty good, because he had the wheel when we finally crossed the Ruth's bow.