Summary

Portrait of Oliver Optic Oliver Optic Little By Little; or, The Cruise of the Flyaway

This accident did not in the least disturb his equanimity, and he had just shaken himself, like a Newfoundland dog, when his mother reached the beach.
"Whose boat is that, Paul?" asked Mrs. Duncan, who, during the last moments of her walk, had been gazing with admiration upon the trim craft.
"Mine, mother," replied Paul, with assumed indifference.
"Mine, too," added John.
"We own her together," said Paul.
"Own her together? What do you mean by that? Haven't you learned better than to make sport of your mother, boys?"
"It is ours, certain true, mother!" cried John.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Oliver Optic Oliver Optic Little By Little; or, The Cruise of the Flyaway

The boys hastened down to the boat, and Mrs. Duncan went out upon the bluff to see them off. The wind blew fresh from the southwest when they started, and the Fawn went out under jib and mainsail only; but even with this sail, she flew like a racehorse over the waters.
"Shall I hoist the foresail, Paul?" asked John.
"I think not; she is doing very well."
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Oliver Optic Oliver Optic Little By Little; or, The Cruise of the Flyaway

You are afraid of the sea, and afraid of your mother. You dare not go!"
"Jump in!" cried Paul, desperately, as his failing resolution fled before these taunts. "Jump in, Tom."
"Now don't back out if you happen to see one of your mother's aprons on the clothes-line."
"Never fear me; and if you don't wish yourself ashore before you get half way to Tenean Point, I lose my guess; that's all," answered Paul, as he pushed the boat off into deep water. "The wind is dead ahead, and we must beat all the way down."
Source: Gutenberg

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