to look like decent cotton-spinners' wives. And when this advice was
cheered, the women began to get excited, and I thought I would be safer
in Hatton Hall. Women are queer creatures."

"Were you ever married, Captain?"

"Not to any woman. My ship is my wife. She's father and mother and
brother and sister to me. I have no kin, and when I see how much trouble
kin can give you, I don't feel lonely. The ship I sail--whatever her
name--is to me 'My Lady,' and I guard and guide and cherish her all the
days of her life with me."

"Why do you say 'her life,' Captain?"

"Because ships are like women--contrary and unreasonable. Like women
they must be made to answer the rudder, or they go on the rocks. There
are, of course, men-of-war, and they get men's names, and we give them
fire and steel to protect themselves, but when your yacht with sails
set, goes curtsying over the waves like a duchess, you know she's
feminine, and you wouldn't call her after your father or yourself, but
your sweetheart's name would be just suitable, I'm sure."

John smiled pleasantly, and his silence encouraged the Captain to
continue. "Why, sir, the very insurance offices speak of a ship as
_she_, and what's more they talk naturally of the 'life and death of a
ship,' and I can tell you, sir, if you had ever seen a ship fight for
her life and go down to her death, you would say they were right. Mr.
Hatton, there is no sadder sight than a ship giving up the fight,
because further fight is useless. Once I was present at the death of a
ship. I pray God that I may never see the like again. Her captain and