n once in a night; and they are sometimes out all night,
visiting various wrecks in succession. In all this work the value of
the steam-tug is very conspicuous. For it can tow its boat again and
again to windward, and renew the effort to save life in cases where,
unaided, lifeboats would be compelled to give in. Embarking in the
_Alert_, I sailed round the wreck at low water, and observed that the
Deal luggers were swarming round her like flies; the crews stripping her
bottom of copper, and saving her stores, while, apparently, hundreds of
men were busy upon her deck dismantling her shattered hull.

This, after all, is but an insignificant episode of wreck on the
Goodwins. Many wrecks there are every year much more worthy of record;
but this is sufficient to give a general idea of the manner in which our
great war with the storm is conducted--the promptitude with which relief
is rendered, and the energy with which our brave seamen are ready to
imperil their lives almost every night, all round the coast, and all the
year round.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

DOCKS AND SHIPBUILDING.

Having in the previous chapters treated of the subjects of ancient
navigation and ships, and given some account of the boats of the present
time, we now proceed to write about modern ships. In doing so, let us
turn our attention first to:--

THE DOCKYARD.

If we were a maker of riddles, we would ask our reader, "Why is a ship
like a human being?" and having added, "D'ye give it up?" would reply,
"Because it commences life in a cradle;" but not being a fabricator of
riddles, we _don't_ ask our reader that question. We merely draw his
attention to the fact that ships, like men, have not only an infancy,
but also have cradles--of which more hereafter.

Let us enter one of those naval nurseries--the dockyard--where ships may
be seen commencing their career. What a scene it is! What sawing and
thumping, and filing, and grinding, and clinching, and hammering,
without intermission, from morn till noon, and from noon till dewy eve!
What a Babel of sounds and chaos of indescribable material!

That little boy whom you observe standing under the shadow of yonder
hull--his hands in his pockets (of course), his mouth open (probably),
and his eyes gazing up fixedly at the workmen, who cluster like bees on
the ribs and timbers of yonder infant ship has stood there for more than
an hour, and he will stand there, or thereabout, for many hours to come;