loon, and charges for
private baths, suites of rooms, and such like; but in these days of
competition and low freights every square inch of a cargo-boat must be
built for cheapness, great hold-capacity, and a certain steady speed.
This boat was, perhaps, two hundred and forty feet long and thirty-two
feet wide, with arrangements that enabled her to carry cattle on her
main and sheep on her upper deck if she wanted to; but her great glory
was the amount of cargo that she could store away in her holds. Her
owners--they were a very well known Scotch firm--came round with her
from the north, where she had been launched and christened and fitted,
to Liverpool, where she was to take cargo for New York; and the owner's
daughter, Miss Frazier, went to and fro on the clean decks, admiring the
new paint and the brass work, and the patent winches, and particularly
the strong, straight bow, over which she had cracked a bottle of
champagne when she named the steamer the Dimbula. It was a beautiful
September afternoon, and the boat in all her newness--she was painted
lead-colour with a red funnel--looked very fine indeed. Her house-flag
was flying, and her whistle from time to time acknowledged the salutes
of friendly boats, who saw that she was new to the High and Narrow Seas
and wished to make her welcome.

"And now," said Miss Frazier, delightedly, to the captain, "she's a real
ship, isn't she? It seems only the other day father gave the order for
her, and now--and now--isn't she a beauty!" The girl was proud of the
firm, and talked as though she were the controlling partner.

"Oh, she's no so bad," the skipper replied cautiously. "But I'm sayin'
that it takes more than christenin' to mak' a ship. In the nature o'
things, Miss Frazier, if ye follow me, she's just irons and rivets and
plates put into the form of a ship. She has to find herself yet."

"I thought father said she was exceptionally well found."

"So she is," said the skipper, with a laugh. "But it's this way wi'
ships, Miss Frazier. She's all here, but the parrts of her have not
learned to work together yet. They've had no chance."

"The engines are working beautifully. I can hear them."

"Yes, indeed. But there's more than engines to a ship. Every inch of
her, ye'll understand, has to be livened up and made to work wi' its
neighbour--sweetenin' her, we call it, technically."

"And how will you do it?" the girl asked.

"We can no more than drive and steer her a