“Good!” said Dan. “She’s the best boat in Southampton to-day, and, what is more, she’s as cheap as the dirt under your feet. You’d better buy her, for you’ll never get such another chance as long as you live.” Jack shook his head. “I do believe she is a good boat, Dan,” he said; “but how shall I buy a boat without money to buy it with? I have no money in hand, and am not like to have any.” “Well, well,” said Dan, “to be sure, that’s too bad”; and then, after a little space, he continued: “But I’ll tell you what,—you come down with me, and I’ll take you out in her; then you may see for yourself what a fine boat she is.” “I’ll go out with you,” said Jack; “but I can’t buy her, though. I wish I could.” Then they went off together down to the cooper-shops where Dan kept the boat. Jack helped Dan step the mast. Then they pushed the boat off beyond the end of the shed. As the sail filled, Dan put down the helm, and brought the boat out under the stern of a bark lying at anchor a little distance from the shore. The watch on deck, a tipsy-looking sailor with his throat wrapped around with a woolen stocking, stood looking over the stern of the bark and down at them as they sailed by. Jack looked up at the towering hulk above him. The name of the bark—the _Prophet Elijah_—was painted in great, fat letters across the stern. At one side there was a picture of the prophet’s head, with his long beard. There was a rushing sound of water under the stern of the vessel. Then they were out in the wide, shining harbor, the warm air blowing mildly and softly about them. “Look, how she lies up to the wind,” said Dan Williamson; “why, I do believe I could sail her straight into the wind’s eye if I chose to. I tell ‘ee what ’tis, Jack, you’ll never find such another chance as this to get what you want.” “Maybe I won’t and maybe I will,” said Jack; “all the same, I sha’n’t buy her, for why, I have no money to buy her with.” “No money!” said Dan Williamson; “why, if I had as much money as belongs to you, I’d give up coopering and live a gentleman all my life, I would. Why don’t ye go and ask your uncle Tipton for eighteen pound straight and fair? Sure, the money’s your own, and not his. Why don’t ye ask him for it?” “Ask him for it?” said Jack. “And what good would that do? Asking won’t do any good. The money’s mine, sure enough, yet I can’t touch a penny of it till I am of age.” “‘T won’t do any harm to ask him, anyway,” said Dan Williamson. “Here, you come and take the tiller, and see for yourself how close up she sails.”