One fine day last month, Edwin took his ship down to the Frog Pond on Boston Common, and set her afloat. On the opposite side of the pond he saw four boys sailing their boats, and a tall boy carrying a sloop, and followed by his small brother.
A sloop, you know, has but one mast. None of these boys had a ship with three masts, like "The Uncle George." Edwin felt a little proud when he saw his good ship catch the wind in her sails, and go plunging up and down over the pond.
But, dear me, think of the risks of ship-owners! Consider, too, that Edwin's ship was not insured. What, then, was his dismay, when, as she got into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean (for so Edwin called the pond), a flaw of wind threw her on her beam-ends, and sent her masts down under water till she foundered, sank, and disappeared.

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