on the length of the vessel
that is to be raised. Circular tubes, or wells, extend through them; and
when the chains are secured underneath the ship, the ends are inserted
in these wells by the divers, and drawn up through them by hydraulic
power. The chains thus form a series of loops like the common swing of
the playground, in which the ship rests; and as they are shortened in
being drawn up through the wells, the ship lifts. The ship lifts if all
be well--if the chains do not part, or some other accident occur; but
the wreckers need great patience, and sometimes they see the labor of
weeks undone in a minute.

We are presupposing success, however, and instead of sinking or
capsizing, the ship appears above the bubbling water, and between the
pontoons, which groan and tremble with her weight.

As soon as her decks are above water, so much of the cargo is removed as
is necessary to enable the divers to reach the broken part of the hull,
which they patch with boards and canvas if she is built of wood, or with
iron plates if she is of iron. This is the most perilous part of the
diver's work, as there are so many projections upon which his air-tube
may catch; but he finds it almost as easy to ply his hammer and drill in
making repairs under water as on shore.

The ship is next pumped out, and borne between the pontoons by powerful
tugs to the nearest dry-dock, where all the damages are finally
repaired, and in a month or two she is once more afloat, with nothing to
indicate her narrow escape.

[Begun in No. 5 of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, December 2.]

THE HISTORY OF PHOTOGEN AND NYCTERIS.

A Day and Night Maehrchen.

BY GEORGE MACDONALD.

XVI.--AN EVIL NURSE.

Watho was herself ill, as I have said, and was the worse tempered; and,
besides, it is a peculiarity of witches that what works in others to
sympathy, works in them to repulsion. Also, Watho had a poor, helpless,
rudimentary spleen of a conscience left, just enough to make her
uncomfortable, and therefore more wicked. So when she heard that
Photogen was ill she was angry. Ill, indeed! after all she had done to
saturate him with the life of the system, with the solar might itself!
He was a wretched failure, the boy! And because he was _her_ failure,
she was annoyed with him, began to dislike him, grew to hate him. She
looked on him as a painter might upon a picture, or a poet upon a poem,
which he had only succeeded in getting into an irrecoverable m