Scores of people crowded her decks for the pleasure of a ride ten miles
down the river to return in their carriages.

The Captain of the _Ætna_, Robinson DeHart, held the Boy in a spell by
his lofty manners. He had been a sailor on board an ocean-going brig. To
him the landing of his vessel was an event, no matter how often the stop
was made, whether to put off a single passenger, or take on a regiment.
In fact, he never landed the _Ætna_, even to take on a cord of wood,
without the use of his enormous speaking trumpet and his big brass
spy-glass.

A beautiful, slow, uneventful voyage on the Father of Waters landed the
Boy in safety at the Woodville stopping-place. He leaped down the
gang-plank with a shout and clasped his Big Brother's hand.

"My, my, but you've grown, Boy!"

"Haven't I?"

"Won't little mother be surprised and glad?"

"Let's fool her," the Boy cried. "Let me go up by myself and she won't
know me!"

"All right--we'll try."

The brother stopped at the village and the young stranger walked alone
to his father's house. How beautiful it all seemed--the big log house
with the cabins clustering around it! A horse neighed at the barn and a