The alterations and improvements, which Forester had ordered in the boat, were completed at the time promised. Marco said that it would require a crew of eight to man the boat properly: six oarsmen, a bowman, and a coxswain. Marco pronounced this word as if it was spelt coxen. This is the proper way to pronounce it. It means the one who sits in the stern, to steer the boat and direct the rowers. In fact, the coxswain is the commander of the boat's crew.

"I will be bowman," said Marco, "and you can be coxswain, and then we shall want six boys for oarsmen."

"You will have to explain to me then what my duties will be," said Forester, "for I don't even know what a coxswain is."

"Why, he's the commander," said Marco. "He gives all the orders."

"Then you must be coxswain at first," said Forester, "for I don't know any thing about it. You have got to teach us all. After I have learned to manage a boat with six oars, man-of-war fashion, I should like to be coxswain sometimes very much. And it seems to me," added Forester, "that you and I had better go down first alone, until you get me taught, and then we can get the boys to come afterward."

"O no," said Marco, "you'll all learn easily enough together. I can tell you all exactly what to do."

Forester acceded to this proposal, and they made out a list of six boys, and Forester authorized Marco to invite them to come. "Be sure," said Forester, "to tell their parents that we are going out in a boat, and tell them that I am going too." Marco did this. The boys all gladly accepted the invitation. They came first to the house, and then proceeded by a path, from the foot of the garden, which led to the mill-pond. It was about half-past one when they reached the boat.

Here there was a great scene of confusion, as the boys all commenced talking and asking questions together. They found the boat in fine order, being perfectly tight and dry, and the new seats being all in their places. The oars, however, were not there. Forester recommended to Marco to send a detachment of his men, to go to the wagon-maker's shop and get them. So Marco sent off three of the boys, calculating very correctly that they could bring two oars apiece. Before many minutes they returned, each of the boys having two oars, one on each shoulder.

The other boys immediately began to take the oars, and they all advanced together toward the boat, to get in.

"Stop," exclaimed Marco, "stop, boys! you must not go aboard without an order. I'm coxswain; you must wait till I tell you, before one of you goes aboard. John, come out."

John, who had stepped into the boat, came back again on hearing this peremptory order, and the boys waited on the bank. Marco then told them to put the oars in. The boys began to pitch them in, in confusion, some falling upon the thwarts, and some into the bottom of the boat.

"No,--stop," said Marco; "that isn't the way. Put 'em in in order."

"Yes, put 'em in order," said John. "Let's put 'em in order."

"Lay 'em along the thwarts," said Marco, "the blades forward."

Marco explained to the boys how to place the oars. They were laid along the middle of the thwarts so as to leave room to sit by the side of them. They were placed in such a manner that the handle of one came upon each seat.

"Aboard!" said Marco, in a military tone.

The boys did not understand that order, and of course did not obey it.

"Aboard, I say!" repeated Marco; "when I say Aboard, you must all get into the boat."

With this explanation of the word of command, the boys understood what they were to do, and got aboard the boat as fast as they could. There was much confusion among them in getting their seats. Several of them began to take up their oars, until they were forbidden to do so by Marco, in a loud voice.

"You must not touch the oars," said he, "until I say Toss. Then you must take them and toss them right up in the air."

"How?" said one of the boys, named Joseph. "How, Marco?"

This question was scarcely heard amid the confusion.

"Be silent, boys; don't talk, and don't stop to ask how, but do just as I tell you."

Marco was so much accustomed to the idea which sailors attach to the word toss, and to the manner in which they perform the evolution, that he forgot how many different ways there might be of tossing up an oar. The proper way is, when the command is given, for each oarsman to raise the blade of his oar quick, but gently, into the air, letting the end of the handle rest upon the thwart. It is then in a position to be let down into the water conveniently when the next order, which is, Let fall, is given.

The raising of the oars, and then letting them fall, all exactly together, by the crew of a man-of-war's boat, makes a very pretty spectacle.

The boys, however, knew nothing about this, for Marco, as it was all very plain and familiar to him, did not realize the necessity of making very minute explanations to such new recruits as those that were under his command. Accordingly, when the order came to toss, some of the boys sat still, looking at Marco, and not knowing what to do; others raised their oars into the air, some one way and some another; and Joseph, who was a little discomposed by the rebuff he had met with, concluded that he would obey as literally as possible, let what would come of it and he gave his oar a high toss into the air. It fell at a short distance from him into the water, went down for a moment out of sight, and then, shooting out for half its length, it fell over upon its side and began to float away.

Hereupon ensued just such a scene of laughter shouts, and confusion as might have been expected. All began to shout out exclamations and orders, and to give directions how to proceed to recover the lost oar. The boys whose oars were still left, thrust them confusedly into the water, and began pushing, poking, and paddling with them, in order to get the boat out to where Joseph's oar was floating. All this time Forester remained on the bank, laughing at this specimen of nautical command and subordination.

After a time the oar was recovered, and Marco, after much scolding and vociferation, got his crew in order again. Forester said that he would remain where he was, on the bank, until Marco had tried his oarsmen a little. So Marco went on giving his orders. He succeeded finally in getting the boys all in their seats again, with their oars in their hands.

"Now, boys, mind," said he, "and I'll tell you exactly what to do. Attention! When I say Attention, you must all stop talking. Attention! Now you mustn't speak a word. You must hold your oars out over the water and have them all ready, the handles in your hands, and when I say Give way, then you must all begin to row, all together exactly, so as to keep the stroke. You must keep the stroke with the stroke-oarsman."

But the boys did not know who the stroke-oarsman was, and they began clamorously to inquire, notwithstanding the injunction to silence which they had received. Marco explained to them that the stroke-oarsman was the one who sat nearest to him, that is, the one farthest aft. As the oarsmen were all sitting with their backs toward the bow of the boat, their faces were toward the stern, and therefore the one who sat farthest aft could be seen by the rest. This is the reason why the thwart which is farthest aft is made the seat of the best oarsman, and the others are required to make their motions keep time with his. For the oars in a boat that is fully manned are so close together, that, unless they keep time exactly with each other, the blades would cross and hit one another in utter confusion. But if they keep the stroke, as they call it, exactly together, all goes right. For this reason the oarsman who sits aft, by whose oar the movements of all the other oars are to be regulated, is called the stroke-oarsman.

The boys, however, knew nothing of all this. Marco contented himself with giving one general direction to them, to keep the stroke with the stroke-oarsman, and to begin when he gave the order, "Give way." Accordingly, after all were silent again, the oars being extended over the water, and Forester standing on the bank watching the operation, Marco called out in the tone of command, "Give way!"

The boys immediately began to row, all looking at the stroke-oarsman, but failing entirely to keep time with him. The oars thumped against each other, crossed each other, and made all manner of confusion. Some could not get into the water, and others could not get out; and Joseph's oar, which somehow or other came out too suddenly, while he was pulling hard upon it, caused him to pitch backward off his seat and tumble over into the bottom of the boat.

"Oars!" said Marco, "OARS!"

What Marco meant by oars they did not know, so they paid no attention to the command, but some stopped rowing in despair, while others kept on, banging the blades of the oars against one another, and plashing the water, but produced no effect whatever in respect to propelling the boat. In the mean time the air was filled with shouts of laughter and loud vociferations.

"Oars!" exclaimed Marco again, with the voice of a colonel at the head of his regiment. "Oars! Why don't you stop when I say Oars?"

The boys began to stop, shouting to one another, "Stop!" "Stop!" In a few minutes all was still again. The boys began to take their oars in and one of them rose and said,

"Poh! this is all nonsense. You can't do any thing with oars. I'd rather have one good paddle than all the oars in New York."

In fact, Marco himself began to despair. He uttered some impatient exclamations, and tried to paddle the boat toward the shore. But he found he was almost as awkward in managing a paddle, as the other boys were in working oars. He succeeded, however, at last, in getting the boat to the shore, and then he told the boys that they might as well get out, for they could not do any thing at all about rowing.

"You don't seem to get along very well, Marco," said Forester: "what is the matter?"

"Why, I havn't got any crew. They don't know any thing about it."

"It seems to me the fault is in the commander," said Forester.

"In me?" said Marco. "Why, I ordered them right, but they wouldn't obey."

"Yes, your orders would have been right, if you had had a trained crew. But you don't manage in the right way to teach raw recruits."

"I wish you would try, then, cousin Forester," said Marco.

"Well," said Forester, "I have no objection to try. Boys, are you willing to have me for commander?"

"Yes, sir," "Yes, sir," said all the boys.

"I shall be a great deal more strict than Marco," said Forester. "So I don't expect that you will like me. But I will try. I don't want quite so many oarsmen to begin with; I should rather teach a few at a time. Are there any of you that would like to come ashore, and let the rest practice first?"

None of the boys moved. They all wished to practice first. This was just as Forester expected.

"Very well," said Forester; "I know how I can thin out my crew. As fast as I find that you don't obey my orders, I shall put you ashore."

"But suppose we don't understand?" said one of the boys.

"I shall explain fully beforehand what you are to do. And, Marco, you must observe how I manage, and then you will know another time. When you have got any thing to teach, the art consists in dividing the lesson into a great many very short steps, and letting your pupils take one at a time."

Forester knew nothing about managing a boat's crew until that day, but he had observed very attentively all the orders which Marco had given, and noticed their meaning, and thus he was prepared to manoeuver the boat as far as Marco had gone in giving his orders. He accordingly stepped into the boat and took Marco's place; while Marco himself walked forward and took his place at the bow of the boat, saying that he was going to be bowman.

"Marco," said Forester, "you say that when the order is Attention, the crew must be silent; what is the order when I want to give them liberty to talk again?"

"Crew at ease" said Marco.

"Very well. Now, boys, when I say Attention, you must be still, look at me, hear all I say, and obey the orders as exactly as you can, but ask no questions and give me no advice, nor speak to one another, till I say, Crew at ease. Then you can talk again. Perhaps two or three of you will disobey, and I have no objection to that, as I should like some excuse for putting some of you ashore."

Forester smiled as he said this, and every boy determined that he would not be the one to be sent ashore.

"Attention!" said Forester.

Forester then put his paddle into the water and paddled the boat out into the pond a little way. While he was doing this, there was a dead silence on board the boat. Not a boy spoke a word; and when, at last, Forester stopped paddling, the boat floated on a little way gently through the water, and not a sound was to be heard except the distant barking of a dog on the opposite shore.

"Crew at ease," said Forester. The boys laughed, changed their positions, and began to talk.

"I didn't get any of you ashore then," said Forester, "but I shall succeed the next time, for I shall watch my opportunity when you are all busy talking, and say, Attention, suddenly; then you will not all stop in an instant, but some will go on just to finish their sentence, and this will be disobeying the order, and so I shall get you ashore."

The boys laughed; they thought that it was not very good policy for Forester to give them this warning of his intention, as it put them all upon their guard. Presently the word of command came very suddenly--"Attention!" Every voice was hushed in an instant; the boys assumed immediately an erect position, and looked directly toward Forester.

"Joseph," said Forester, "when I give order Toss, you are to take up your oar and raise the blade into the air, and hold it perpendicularly, with the end of the handle resting on the thwart by your side, on the side of the boat opposite to the one on which you are going to row,--Toss!"

So Joseph raised his oar in the manner directed, the other boys looking on.

"Let it down again," said Forester. Joseph obeyed.

"Crew at ease," said Forester.

Forester acted very wisely in not keeping the attention of the crew very long at a time. By relieving them very frequently, he made the distinction between being under orders and at ease a very marked and striking one, so that the boys easily kept it in mind. In a few moments he commanded attention again, with the same success as before. He then ordered another boy to toss his oar, then another, and so on, until he had taught the movement to each one separately. He gave to each one such explanations as he needed, and when necessary he made them perform the evolution twice, so as to be sure that each one understood exactly what was to be done. Then Forester gave the command for them all to toss together, and they did so quite successfully. The oars rose and stood perpendicularly like so many masts; while Forester paddled the boat slowly through the water. Then he directed the boys to let the oars down again, gently, to their places along the thwarts, and put the crew at ease.

The boys perceived now that they were making progress. They were gaining slowly, it is true, but surely, and Marco saw where the cause of his failure was. He had not realized how entirely ignorant all these boys were of the whole mystery of managing an oar and of acting in concert; and besides, he had not had experience enough as a teacher, to know how short the steps must be made, in teaching any science or art which is entirely new.

In the same slow and cautious manner, Forester taught the boys to let the blades of their oars fall gently into the water, at the command, "Let fall." He taught one at a time, as before, each boy dropping the blades into the water and letting the middle of the oar come into the row-lock, while he held the handle in his hands ready to row. Then, without letting them row any, he ordered them to toss again; that is, to raise the oars out of the water and hold them in the air, with the end of the handle resting upon the thwart. He drilled them in this exercise for some time, until they could go through it with ease, regularity, and dispatch. He then gave the order, "Crew at ease," and let the boys rest themselves and enjoy conversation.

While they were resting, Forester paddled them about. The boys asked him when he was going to let them row, and Forester told them that perhaps they had had drilling enough for one day, and if they chose he would not require any thing more of them, but would paddle them about and let them amuse themselves. But they were all eager to learn to row. So Forester consented.

He taught them the use of the oar, in the same slow and cautious manner by which his preceding instructions had been characterized. He made one learn at a time, explaining to him minutely every motion. As each one, in turn, practiced these instructions, the rest looked on, observing every thing very attentively, so as to be ready when their turn should come. At length, when they had rowed separately, he tried first two, and then four, and then six together, and finally got them so trained that they could keep the stroke very well. While they were pulling in this manner, the boat would shoot ahead very rapidly. When he wanted them to stop, he would call out, "Oars." This was the order for them to stop rowing, after they had finished the stroke which they had commenced, and to hold the oars in a horizontal position, with the blades just above the water, ready to begin again whenever he should give the command.

At first the boys were inclined to stop immediately, even if they were in the middle of a stroke, if they heard the command, oars. But Marco said that this was wrong; they must finish the stroke, he said, if they had commenced it, and then all take the oars out of the water regularly together. Forester was careful too to give the order always between the middle and the end of a stroke, so that the obeying of the order came immediately after the issuing of it.

By this means Forester could stop them in a moment, when any thing went wrong. He would order, "Give way," and then the boys would all begin to pull their oars. As soon as any of them lost the stroke, or whenever any oars began to interfere, or any other difficulty or accident occurred, he would immediately give the order, "Oars." This would instantly arrest the rowing, before the difficulty became serious. Then, after a moment's pause he would say, "Give way," again, when they would once more begin rowing all together. All this time, he sat in the stern and steered the boat wherever they wanted to go.

Marco wished to have Forester teach the boys how to back water, and to trail oars, and to put the oars apeak, and to perform various other evolutions. But Forester was very slow in going on to new manoeuvers before the old ones were made perfectly familiar. He accordingly spent nearly an hour in rowing about the pond, up and down, to make the boys familiar with the stroke. He found, as is, in fact, universally the case with beginners in the art of rowing, that they were very prone to row faster and faster, that is, to accelerate their strokes, instead of rowing regularly, keeping continually the same time. They gradually improved, however, in respect to this fault, and by the middle of the afternoon Marco began to think that they were quite a good crew. They practiced several new evolutions during the latter part of the afternoon, and just before tea time they all went home, much pleased with the afternoon's enjoyment, and with the new knowledge and skill which they had acquired. They also planned another excursion the following week.