taken it for granted that you knew; and in any case parts of it are
deep enough, though I don't suppose in this stretch of it from the
big reed beds up to within a mile of the town wharf, you could find
six feet of water in it if you tried. Oh, pshaw! I was not talking
about a steamer sinking in the ocean and carrying down its screaming
crowds of people into the hideous depths of green water. Oh, dear me
no! That kind of thing never happens on Lake Wissanotti.

But what does happen is that the Mariposa Belle sinks every now and
then, and sticks there on the bottom till they get things
straightened up.

On the lakes round Mariposa, if a person arrives late anywhere and
explains that the steamer sank, everybody understands the situation.

You see when Harland and Wolff built the Mariposa Belle, they left
some cracks in between the timbers that you fill up with cotton waste
every Sunday. If this is not attended to, the boat sinks. In fact, it
is part of the law of the province that all the steamers like the
Mariposa Belle must be properly corked,--I think that is the
word,--every season. There are inspectors who visit all the hotels in
the province to see that it is done.

So you can imagine now that I've explained it a little straighter,
the indignation of the people when they knew that the boat had come
uncorked and that they might be stuck out there on a shoal or a
mud-bank half the night.

I don't say either that there wasn't any danger; anyway, it doesn't
feel very safe when you realize that the boat is settling down with