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It was as if the sun were an artist, who, not satisfied with his efforts, changed and changed again the colors on his canvas, for each moment the tints and hues would fade or grow more intense as the shadows grew deeper, and the scene would seem quite different. “No, but it’s all right,” said Bob as cheerfully as he could. “We’ll just have to trust to luck. Sit down and let her rip!” It was only an excuse when he had told himself that it was all right to sail with an umbrella. He knew perfectly well that it wasn’t. Ugh! how disobedient he had been, he who was heir of Kingthorpe, too! Before, it didn’t matter so very much if he were disobedient; but everything was different now that he was the Kingthorpe heir. He must not be disobedient any more, for it was shameful. How sorry, how sorry he was!.
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Once Jerry had started his tale, it flowed on without interruption. He seemed anxious to get it out. Old Rolfsen reached out a gnarled, rough hand to Johnny and all the rest of the workmen came, one by one, and shook hands with him. It was queer, but it was pleasant, too, for he knew them all and he smiled at them as they greeted him. Lars Berget gripped his hand so hard that it really hurt. And just think! Even Carlstrom came and made a beautiful bow (My! how stiff his moustache ends were today!), and to crown all, Miss Melling pressed forward and actually courtesied! At this Johnny Blossom was so astounded that he had to look over at his mother. “What is it called?” Yes, there was an elderly gentleman with glasses who had not gone with the other boat..
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