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 Sloppy, ain’t it? The thing’s full up! Plenty o’ depth for you to draw.... Tea-leaf, top o’ a ten-foot cup.... I say! Sorrow! Suppose....she sank?.... Kind o’ tightens me in the throat.... Rubbish! she couldn’t....Oh, please don’t!

(Resolutely.)

Ready? Leggo, there! Now, then—Float!

(The model takes the water.)

GloryHosanna! You’re a Boat!

(Scrambling round the tank, guiding the boat.)

Do this yourself, you know, you ought: Make the round trip from port to port. That ’ud be splendid, just like life. Ought to ha’ fancied that at first. Hold on, now! Do it, if I burst.... Golly! I’ve got it. Where’s my knife?

(Shapes and fixes a rudder, lashing it so that the boat must move in a circle; this he proves, then re-enters the wharé.)

Good! You’re a boat, you’ll go, you’ll come— An’ yet my fancy ain’t fetch’d home. Know why? Because your looks ain’t neat, An’, if there’s one thing you’re to be, It’s this—right up-an’-down Complete! I kind o’ need things finished quite, So, come on, son! let’s get you right.