shorter, the sides must be drawn in to it, when they can be screwed fast.

Remove the rope; saw off the projecting ends, and plane them down; and turn the boat over, when it will be ready for the bottom. Now apply a straight-edge, as in Fig. 6, and it will be seen that it touches only along the outer edges, n o, which must be planed down until it lies flat on each board; then starting at the stern, nail on the bottom boards of three-quarter-inch pine, eight to ten inches wide. Eightpenny finishing nails are the best, three in each board, the heads being driven in to admit of puttying. The holes must be bored with a brad-awl, and the nails driven very carefully, or they will run out at either side. The joints between the boards must be planed very neatly, as the boat is not to be calked. When all are nailed on, the bottom is planed over. A skag, m, Fig. 7, is then put on, and nailed from the inside, and a piece of oak nailed down the stern and its after-end to stiffen it. Turn the boat over once more, and screw in a cleat on each side, ten inches long, seven inches above the bottom, and just forward of the mould; fit the seat on it, and nail fast, and then remove the mould. A board five inches wide is now nailed the entire length of the bottom to stiffen it, six-penny clinch nails being used.

The seats in bow and stern are of three-quarter-inch pine, supported by cross-pieces, shown by dotted lines in Fig. 1; or a locker may be made instead in the stern, with a hinged lid. A gunwale of oak or ash two inches wide and three-quarters of an inch thick is next nailed around the edge on each side. Two pieces of oak, twelve inches long, one and a half inches wide, and one inch thick, are screwed on to take the rowlocks: iron ones are best, and cost but little; if wooden ones are used, they are of oak or hickory, seven inches long, two inches wide, and half an inch thick, mortised into the bed-piece and gunwale, the centre of the opening being eleven inches from the after-edge of the thwart.

Two pieces of oak, with notches, forming a rack, are nailed to the edges of the bottom piece, and a strip of oak an inch square is laid across to form a brace for the feet. The oars are of spruce, seven feet long, and the blades five inches wide; leather is tacked around them where they rest in the rowlocks, and a strip of copper protects each end. After punching in all the nails, the boat may be planed off where it needs it, and then sand-papered all over.

The first coat of paint should be white lead mixed with boiled oil, enough black being added to make a lead-color. When it is dry, all the holes should be puttied over, and a second coat applied. White looks well, with a red stripe around the gunwale; but it is difficult to keep clean, and green makes a less noticeable color, and is better for hunting. Any light tint will do for the inside.

Should the boat leak after being in the water for a day or two, the seams must be calked with cotton, forced in with a blunt knife. A ring-bolt in the bow and fifteen feet of three-eighths inch rope complete the equipment, unless a chain is needed for security.

The cost of the materials will be from five to seven dollars.

WORKING PLANS FOR A BOY'S ROW-BOAT.

A MIDSUMMER DAY.

BY GEORGE COOPER.

There's a flush in the sky of crimson deep;
From a waking bird there's a drowsy cheep;
There's a ripple of gold upon the brooks,
And a glitter of dew in dusky nooks.
And this is the way
A midsummer day
Bids the world good-morning.

There's a tremulous cry from a tree-toad hid,
And the husky plaint of the katydid;
Then the fire-flies wink, now high, now low,
Like a sudden flurry of golden snow.
And this is the way
A midsummer day
Bids the world good-evening.

[Begun in No. 80 of Harper's Young People, May 10.]

THE CRUISE OF THE "GHOST."

BY W. L. ALDEN,

Author of "The Moral Pirates," etc.

Chapter X.

"Get out the hammer and nails, and take a couple of the bottom boards and nail the canvas over the cockpit," ordered Charley. "We must keep the water out, or we shall get into trouble."

The boys silently obeyed him. The canvas cabin was laid across the cockpit; the boards were placed over the edges of the canvas and nailed down to the deck. An opening was left close to the tiller, so that any one could creep into the cockpit, but with the aid of a cord even this small opening could be closed.

"Now, boys," said Charley, when this work was done, "I want Tom and Harry to go below and go to sleep. We are in no danger just at present, but we may have hard work before us, and we can't afford to have everybody fagged out at the same time. Joe will stay here with me, in case I want him to help me. So go below, the port watch, and sleep while you can."

"Do you think we shall be drowned?" Harry whispered to Tom, as he prepared to follow him into the cabin.

"I hope we shall come through all right," replied Charley. "With that canvas over her cockpit, the boat ought to live through a pretty heavy gale. Keep up your courage. The wind may blow itself out in a little while. Anyway, we'll do our duty like men, and leave it to God to take care of us. By-the-bye, how are we off for water and provisions?"

"The water keg is full, for we filled it this morning, and we've provisions enough for three or four days, if we don't eat much."

"That's all right, then; but mind and don't drink a drop of water while you can get along without it."

Harry disappeared below the canvas, and Charley, after lacing up the opening, took two pieces of rope, one of which he passed around his waist and made it fast to the rudder-head, and the other of which he handed to Joe, and told him to lash himself to a ring-bolt in the deck. "Now, Joe," he said, "we're safe and comfortable."

"And I'm going to get wet again," replied Joe.

The two boys sat quietly munching the biscuits that Harry had passed up to them when he went below, and which were all the dinner they cared to eat. As night came on, the weather grew decidedly worse. The Ghost fairly flew before the wind, and Charley was compelled to abandon the tiller, and to steer with an oar. Luckily he had placed a socket for a rowlock at the stern of the boat when he lengthened her, and this enabled him to use a steering oar now that the Ghost kept pitching her rudder almost out of the water, and frequently refused to answer the helm. She rolled a good deal, and occasionally a shower of spray would fly over the stern, drenching Charley and Joe. Neither of them felt much like talking. Charley's whole attention was given to the work of steering, for the least carelessness or mistake might have led to the instant swamping of the boat, and Joe was too much occupied with thinking of the dangerous situation they were all in. The Ghost was certainly in an alarming situation. She was hurrying further and further out to sea, in a storm that would have tried even a stanch sea-going yacht. So far from showing any signs of improvement, the