`` That is a dear little boat ; and ` Bonnie Belle ' is a pretty name , '' she said , trying not to show how nervous she felt . `` It is for you ; so sit in the stern and learn to steer , till you are ready to learn to row . '' `` Do all boats wiggle about in that way ? '' she asked , lingering as if to tie her hat more firmly . `` Oh , yes , pitch about like nutshells when the sea is a bit rough , '' answered her sailor uncle , never guessing her secret woe . `` Is it rough to-day ? '' `` Not very ; it looks a trifle squally to the eastward , but we are all right till the wind changes . Come . '' `` Can you swim , uncle ? '' asked Rose , clutching at his arm as he took her hand . `` Like a fish . Now then . '' `` Oh , please hold me very tight till I get there ! Why do you have the stern so far away ? '' and , stifling several squeaks of alarm in her passage , Rose crept to the distant seat , and sat there holding on with both hands and looking as if she expected every wave to bring a sudden shipwreck . Uncle Alec took no notice of her fear , but patiently instructed her in the art of steering , till she was so absorbed in remembering which was starboard and which larboard , that she forgot to say `` OW ! '' every time a big wave slapped against the boat . `` Now where shall we go ? '' she asked , as the wind blew freshly in her face , and a few , long swift strokes sent them half across the little bay . `` Suppose we go to China ? ''
`` XXXXX n't that rather a long voyage ? ''
Come Is Suppose blew clutching go looking slapped stifling wiggle