one of the most thronged havens in the world. But there must be a
beginning to everything, and this was Rose Budd's beginning on the
water. It is true the brigantine was a very beautiful, as well as an
exceedingly swift vessel; but all this was lost on Rose, who would
have admired a horse-jockey bound to the West Indies, in this the
incipient state of her nautical knowledge. Perhaps the exquisite
neatness that Mulford maintained about everything that came under
his care, and that included everything on deck, or above-board, and
about which neatness Spike occasionally muttered an oath, as so much
senseless trouble, contributed somewhat to Rose's pleasure; but her
admiration would scarcely have been less with anything that had
sails, and seemed to move through the water with a power approaching
that of volition.

It was very different with Mrs. Budd, She, good woman, had actually
made one voyage with her late husband, and she fancied that she knew
all about a vessel. It was her delight to talk on nautical subjects,
and never did she really feel her great superiority over her niece,
so very unequivocally, as when the subject of the ocean was
introduced, about which she did know something, and touching which
Rose was profoundly ignorant, or as ignorant as a girl of lively
imagination could remain with the information gleaned from others.

"I am not surprised you are astonished at the sight of the vessel,
Rosy," observed the self-complacent aunt at one of her niece's
exclamations of admiration. "A vessel is a very wonderful thing, and
we are told what extr'orny beings they are that `go down to the sea
in ships.' But you are to know this is not a ship at all, but only a
half-jigger rigged, which is altogether a different thing."