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

Naturally, everything in the "Dimbula" 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 beneath, 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 out
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 shipbuilding. 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!"