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Runciman, James, 1852-1891

"A Dream of the North Sea"

He attached himself much to Miss Dearsley, and, as he was
passionately fond of talking about Lewis Ferrier, his company was
surprisingly grateful to the young lady. Blair could not be with them,
but he religiously promised to give Ferrier a lively time in the spring.
The party of five were enough in themselves, and they watched with all
the pride of successful people as their vessel, the offspring of dreams,
flew over the seas without plunging or staggering. The captain came
aft.
"Well, sir, this is better than wind-jamming. I think she's doing
elevens easily, and, if the wind comes round a bit, she shall have the
try-sails, and I warrant she does twelve."
"You'll go right for the Short Blues, as we arranged?"
"We shall pick them up in eighteen hours from now, sir, and I'll be glad
if we haven't to work your patent sling, though I'd like to see it
tried."
When the night came, and the men were smoking in Ferrier's room, the
young man suddenly said, "Mr. Cassall, I hope you'll live to see at
least six of these ships knocking about. In the meantime I'd sooner have
your memorial than that awful, costly abortion of Byron's. I mean the
one with a cat, or a puppy or something, sprawling at the man's feet."
Cassall slowly smiled.
"Not bad; not bad. But wait till I'm done, my lad; wait till I'm done.
I've managed a beginning; I've designed a scheme for a ship, and now
I'm bent on something bigger. Wait. I mean to move the conscience of
your plutocrats, and I shall do it the hard, City style; see if I
don't.


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