ins. "The _Magnet_ for a bottle of port," bawled out
another. "A whitebait dinner for two, the _Magnet_ reaches Greenwich
first." "What should you know about the _Magnet_?" inquires the mate
of the _Royal Adelaide_. "Vy, I think I should know something about
nauticals too, for Lord St. Wincent was my godfather." "I'll bet five
shillings on the _Royal Adelaide."_ "I'll take you," says another. "I'll
bet a bottom of brandy on the _Magnet_," roars out the mate. "Two goes
of Hollands', the _Magnet's_ off Herne Bay before the _Royal Adelaide."_
"I'll lay a pair of crimping-irons against five shillings, the _Magnet_
beats the _Royal Adelaide_," bellowed out Green, who having come on
board, had mounted the paddle-box. "I say, Green, I'll lay you an even
five if you like." "Well, five pounds," cries Green. "No, shillings,"
says his friend. "Never bet in shillings," replies Green, pulling up his
shirt collar. "I'll bet fifty pounds," he adds,-getting valiant. "I'll
bet a hundred ponds--a thousand pounds--a million pounds--half the
National Debt, if you like."
Precisely as the jetty clock finishes striking nine, the ropes are
slipped, and the rival steamers stand out to sea with beautiful
precision, amid the crying, the kissing of hands, the raising of hats,
the waving of handkerchiefs, from those who are left for the week, while
the passengers are cheered by adverse tunes from the respective bands on
board. The _Magnet_, having the outside, gets the breeze first hand, but
the _Royal Adelaide_ keeps well alongside, and both firemen being deeply
interested in the event, they boil up a tremendous gallop, without
either being able to claim the slightest advantage for upwards of an
hour and a half, when the _Royal Adelaide_ manages to shoot ahead for
a few minutes, amid the cheers and exclamations of her crew. The
_Magnet's_ fireman, however, is on the alert, and a few extra pokes of
the fire presently bring the boats together again, in which state they
continue, nose and nose, until the stiller water of the side of the
Thames favours the _Magnet_, and she shoots ahead amid the cheers and
vociferations of her party, and is not neared again during the voyage.
This excitement over, the respective crews sink into a sort of
melancholy sedateness, and Green in vain endeavours to kick up a
quadrille. The men were exhausted and the women dispirited, and
altogether they were a very different set of beings to what they were
on the Saturday
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