gine-room almost as long as the
screw-shaft; the forward cargo-hatch fell into bucket-staves when
they raised the iron cross-bars; and the steam-capstan had been badly
wrenched on its bed. Altogether, as the skipper said, it was "a pretty
general average."

"But she's soupled," he said to Mr. Buchanan. "For all her dead-weight
she rode like a yacht. Ye mind that last blow off the Banks--I am proud
of her, Buck."

"It's vera good," said the chief engineer, looking along the dishevelled
decks. "Now, a man judgin' superfeecially would say we were a wreck, but
we know otherwise--by experience."

Naturally everything in the Dimbula fairly stiffened with pride, and the
foremast and the forward collision-bulkhead, who are pushing creatures,
begged the Steam to warn the Port of New York of their arrival. "Tell
those big boats all about us," they said. "They seem to take us quite as
a matter of course."

It was a glorious, clear, dead calm morning, and in single file, with
less than half a mile between each, their bands playing and their
tugboats shouting and waving handkerchiefs, were the Majestic, the
Paris, the Touraine, the Servia, the Kaiser Wilhelm II, and the
Werkendam, all statelily going out to sea. As the Dimbula shifted her
helm to give the great boats clear way, the Steam (who knows far too
much to mind making an exhibition of himself now and then) shouted:

"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! Princes, Dukes, and Barons of the High Seas! Know
ye by these presents, we are the Dimbula, fifteen days nine hours from
Liverpool, having crossed the Atlantic with four thousand ton of cargo
for the first time in our career! We have not foundered. We are
here. 'Eer! 'Eer! We are not disabled. But we have had a time wholly
unparalleled in the annals of ship-building! Our decks were swept! We
pitched; we rolled! We thought we were going to die! Hi! Hi! But we
didn't. We wish to give notice that we have come to New York all the way
across the Atlantic, through the worst weather in the world; and we are
the Dimbula! We are--arr--ha--ha--ha-r-r-r!"

The beautiful line of boats swept by as steadily as the procession of
the Seasons. The Dimbula heard the Majestic say, "Hmph!" and the Paris
grunted, "How!" and the Touraine said, "Oui!" with a little coquettish
flicker of steam; and the Servia said, "Haw!" and the Kaiser and the
Werkendam said, "Hoch!" Dutch fashion--and that was absolutely all.

"I did my best," said the Steam, gravely, "but I