not ready for such big ships, and though she made several
voyages to New York (where she was greeted with the flutter of flags and
the welcome of cannon), the _Great Eastern_ did not earn her wages.

After a curious existence of thirty years, during which period she
changed her masters many times, doing good service, in 1865, by laying
the Atlantic cable, she was sold to be broken up as little more than old
iron.

Our steamships now are built even larger than Mr. Brunel's vessel,
though in a slightly different way. But we have better means of
constructing them, and docks large enough for their accommodation.

One of the largest ships yet launched was built for the Cunard Company a
short time ago. It is 760 feet long, and 87 feet broad, and is nearly
thirty times heavier than the _Britannia_--the Company's first ship to
cross the Atlantic sixty-five years ago. Her saloons and dining-halls
are fit apartments for a palace, and are built in a hull measuring sixty
feet from keel to upper deck. Still larger vessels are in course of
construction.

The poor _Great Eastern_--the leviathan of other days--has been
eclipsed; but whatever admiration we may feel for the new, it must not
be allowed to diminish the honour that is due to the old.

THE REWARD OF A GENIUS.

(_Concluded from page 142._)

Britt ran home that evening full of excitement and satisfaction. His cap
was thrown carelessly on one side as the lad rushed into the
sitting-room, and he looked disappointed at finding a maid preparing the
supper-table as the only occupant.

'Where's Mother? Hasn't she come home yet, Mary?' he asked.

'Yes, Master Rupert, your mother got back this afternoon, but she was no
sooner in than Miss Aleyn sent for her to go in there, and she hasn't
come back yet. She sent a note for you, though; it's on the
mantel-shelf, there.'

Britt took the envelope. 'It's jolly rough on a fellow to have his
mother taken away when he hasn't seen her for a week,' he grumbled, as
he opened it.

'My dear boy,' the letter ran, 'I am so sorry not to be with you this
evening. Unfortunately Miss Aleyn has got one of her particularly
fidgety nervous attacks, and I don't like to leave her. She found a
cross chalked on the gate-post this afternoon, and imagines it is a
burglar's mark! She won't listen to reason, and absolutely refuses to
come home with me, so the house is now being barricaded in preparation
for the attack Miss Aleyn confidently