lying deep on the ground. It was feared that the launch might have to be postponed on account of the tallow freezing on the ways, but when she had settled in her cradle and everything was ready, a gang of men came from the forge bearing cans filled with boiling whale oil, which they poured upon the ways. When the word was given to knock away the dog shores, the vessel moved rapidly down the smoking ways and plunged into the gray, icy waters of the harbor, amid shouts and cheers from a shivering crowd, while the bells of Boston rang out mellow and clear, on the calm, frosty air, in welcome to the largest merchant ship afloat.
Launches were not then regarded as social functions, although some of the most prominent families in New York and Boston, who were interested in shipping, attended them, and a pavilion was usually erected where they might picnic comfortably and enjoy themselves. It was also not customary in those days for women to name ships, but the ceremony, which was simple and effective, was usually performed by the foreman of the yard from which the ship was launched. On this occasion, when the Stag-Hound began to move along the ways, the foreman had a black bottle of Medford rum somewhere about, which he seized by the neck and smashed across her forefoot, at the same time, in the excitement of the moment, shouting out, "Stag-Hound, your name's Stag-Hound!" and thus brought the ceremony to a close. This vessel measured: length 215 feet, breadth 40 feet, depth 21 feet, with 40 inches dead-rise at half floor. Her main-yard was 86 feet and her mainmast 88 feet in
