tom. The sailors, clean looking in their holiday clothes, good-natured, frank fellows, would have recalled to Laurent, had he been there, his old friend Vincent Tilbak. A little embarrassed by their sealegs, they looked as if they did not relish parading upon a boat that was still on dry land. Caught, as they were, in the midst of the crew, some of the lookers-on would have liked to give themselves the emotion of going down the ways on the boat. The wheedling Dupoissy would have liked to be among them, but his delicate duties kept him on shore. While waiting for the master he had to receive the guests, find a place for the ladies under the awning, and also do the duty of manager, and, when necessary, dislodge the outsiders. He was conscious of his importance, and very radiant. It was good to see him take the Misses Vanderling close to the boat and explain the details of its construction in technical terms. He confided to them, too, with an air of mystery, that he had prepared some verse, which he thought were "well turned." In order to get rid of him, the editor of the great commercial daily had promised to intercalate them in his account.
Several crews of the most picturesque and vigorous laborers on the dockyards waited, at arm's length from the boat, for the moment to set her at liberty. They were waiting only for the authorities and the principal actors in the ceremony to arrive. Outside the dockyards, on the quays, and down stream toward the city, thousands of curious people, stemmed only by the Fulton buildings, which were filled to suffocation, were standing, waiting to take their part in the spectacle, and were pushing each other in an uproar of excitement.
