Peter wakes, all well and hollow as a reed, on a brilliant October morning. He goes downstairs three steps at a time and embraces Spot. He cats two bowls of the corn that mother has been hulling while he was abed, with five tablespoons of the farm's marsh-rose-mary honey. Aunt Emma keeps at him and makes him keep his elbows off the table and his hands on it only to their wrists, but even that doesn't keep him from doing great execution on corn and honey.
Peter goes pulling lobster traps with his father and gets the last dregs of his cold blown out of him, by a stiff wind that has winter in it. Father lets him pull two traps all by himself, and Peter brings up five counters in all. And on their way in, Father hails the “Mary Louise” and asks Uncle Cephus if he wouldn't like a guest overnight. Uncle Cephus smiles his pleasure—it is too windy for any words—drops a line to the boy, and Peter goes up hand over hand as his uncle has taught him to travel and joins him for a night aboard. That night is starred by stories almost till dawn. And the shadow of Aunt Emma is washed from the boy's mind. At midnight Uncle Cephus fries flap-jacks the size of his frying pan, tosses them into the air, and catches them without once smearing the edges of the pan, and Peter cats several.
Next day Peter sleeps till noon and is wakened at last by the wild pitching of the schooner. He looks through the cabin port, and the sea is a cauldron of whitecaps. Uncle Cephus is sleeping like a baby. Peter lies on his pitching bunk and knows it is too windy for his father to come out for him today. And so there will be another day and another long night of Uncle Cephus and pirates and flapjacks, and maybe Aunt Emma will be gone before Peter can get back to the farmhouse.
It turns out a windy red-letter day. Uncle Cephus knocks over a wild duck going past the schooner at fifty miles an hour, retrieves him from the waves, and roasts him with cracker stuffing for Peter's dinner. He plays checkers with Peter, and offers the boy a corn-cob pipe. Peter takes it without batting an eyelash and smokes it like a man. His Uncle Cephus knew he would. The captain has missed some of his tobacco when Peter has been around before.
So here is a great peace for Peter at the end of the busiest month of a busy year. Peter takes a holiday, learning enough to fill a book about the lore of ships.
And, as a cap to it all, when Peter does get back to the farm, Aunt Emma is gone!
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