sooner backed
off the Copra Wharf and headed down the straits, leaving a trail of
smoke and tiger smell, than Ivy went to house-keeping on the _Boldero_.
There are great house-keepers, just as there are great poets and actors.
It takes genius; that's all. And Ivy had that kind of genius. Yir Massir
had a Hindu saying that fitted her like a glove. He looked in upon her
work of preparing and systematizing for the cramped weeks at sea and
said: "The little mem-sahib is a born woman."

That's just what she is. There are born idiots and born leaders. Some
are born male and some female; but a born woman is the rarest thing in
the world, the most useful and the most precious. She had never kept
house, but there was nothing for her to learn. She worked things so that
whenever I could come off duty she was at leisure to give all her care
and thought to me.

There was never a millionaire who had more speckless white suits than I
had, though it's a matter almost of routine for officers to go dirty on
anything but the swell liners. Holes in socks grew together under her
fingers, so that you had to look close to see where they'd been. She
even kept a kind of dwarf hibiscus, with bright red flowers, alive and
flourishing in the thick salt air; and she was always slipping into the
galley to give a new, tasty turn to the old sea-standbys.

The crew, engineer, and stokers were all Chinks. Hadley always put his
trust in them and they come cheap. We had forty coolies who berthed
forward, going out on contract to work on a new government dry-dock at
Paiulu. I don't mind a Chink myself, so long as he keeps his habits to
himself and doesn't over-smoke; but they're not sociable. Except for Yir
Massir and myself, there was no one aboard for Ivy to talk to. Yir
Massir's duty kept him busy with the health of the collection for the
Sydney Zoo, and Ivy found time to help, to advise, and to learn. They
made as much fuss between them over the beasts as if they had been
babies; and the donkey-engine was busy most of the day hoisting cages to
the main-deck and lowering them again, so that the beasts could have a
better look at the sea and a bit of sun and fresh air. As it was, a good
many of the beasts and all the birds roomed on the main-deck all the
time. Sometimes Yir Massir would take out a chetah--a nasty, snarling,
pin-headed piece of long-legged malice--and walk him up and down on a
dog-chain, same as a woman walks her King Charlie. He gave