Chapter 11

"The globe around earth's hollow surface shakes,
And is the ceiling of her sleeping sons:
O'er devastation we blind revels keep;
While buried towns support the dancer's heel."

Young.

It was again mid-summer ere Mark Woolston had his boat ready for
launching. He had taken things leisurely, and completed his work in all
its parts, before he thought of putting the craft into the water. Afraid
of worms, he used some of the old copper on this boat, too; and he
painted her, inside and out, not only with fidelity, but with taste.
Although there was no one but Kitty to talk to, he did not forget to
paint the name which he had given to his new vessel, in her
stern-sheets, where he could always see it. She was called the "Bridget
Yardley;" and, notwithstanding the unfavourable circumstances in which
she had been put together, Mark thought she did no discredit to her
beautiful namesake, when completed. When he had everything finished,
even to mast and sails, of the last of which he fitted her with mainsail
and jib, the young man set about his preparations for getting his vessel
afloat.

There was no process by which one man could move a boat of the size of
the Bridget, while out of its proper element, but to launch it by means
of regular ways. With a view to this contingency, the keel had been laid
between the ways of the Neshamony, which were now all ready to be used.
Of course it was no great job to make a cradle for a boat, and our
boat-builder had 'wedged up,' and got the keel of his craft off the
'blocks,' within eight-and-forty hours after he had begun upon that part
of his task. It only remained to knock away the spur-shores and start
the boat. Until that instant, Mark had pursued his work on the Bridget
as mechanically and steadily as if hired by the day When, however, he
perceived that he was so near his goal, a flood of sensations came over
the young man, and his limbs trembled to a degree that compelled him to
be seated. Who could tell the consequences to which that boat might
lead? Who knew but the 'Bridget' might prove the means of carrying him
to his own Bridget, and restoring him to civilized life? At that
instant, if appeared to Mark as if his existence depended on the
launching of his boat, and he was fearful some unforeseen accident might
prevent it. He was obliged to wait several minutes in order to recover
his self-possession.

At length Mark succeeded in subduing this feeling, and he resumed his
work with most of his former self-command. Everything being ready, he
knocked away the spur-shores, and, finding the boat did not start, he
gave it a blow with a mawl. This set the mass in motion, and the little
craft slid down the ways without any