THE SHIP THAT FOUND HERSELF
tell what is happening near them, nor what will overtake them next.
As soon as she had cleared the Irish coast, a sullen, grey-headed old wave of the Atlantic climbed leisurely over her straight bows, and sat down on the steam-capstan used for hauling up the anchor. Now the capstan and the engine that drove it had been newly painted red and green; besides which, nobody likes being ducked.
"Don't you do that again," the capstan sputtered through the teeth of his cogs. "Hi! Where 's the fellow gone?"
The wave had slouched overside with a plop and a chuckle; but "Plenty more where he came from," said a brother-wave, and went through and over the capstan, who was bolted firmly to an iron plate on the iron deck-beams below.
"Can't you keep still up there?" said the deck-beams. "What 's the matter with you? One minute you weigh twice as much as you ought to, and the next you don't!"
"It is n't my fault," said the capstan. "There 's a green brute outside that comes and hits me on the head."
"Tell that to the shipwrights. You 've been in position for months and you 've never wriggled like this before. If you are n't careful you 'll strain us."
"Talking of strain," said a low, rasping, unpleasant voice, "are any of you fellows—you deck-beams, we mean—aware that those exceedingly ugly knees of yours happen to be riveted into our structure—ours?"
[87]
