The ship was expected to go off at about twelve o'clock, and at that
juncture all Mr. ------'s friends assembled under the bows of the ship,
where we were a little sheltered from the rain by the projection of that
part of the vessel over our heads. The bottle of port-wine with which
she was to be christened was suspended from the bows to the platform
where we stood by a blue ribbon; and the ceremony was to be performed by
Mrs. ------, who, I could see, was very nervous in anticipation of the
ceremony. Mr. ------ kept giving her instructions in a whisper, and
showing her how to throw the bottle; and as the critical moment
approached, he took hold of it along with her. All this time we were
waiting in momentary expectation of the ship going off, everything being
ready, and only the touch of a spring, as it were, needed to make her
slide into the water. But the chief manager kept delaying a little
longer, and a little longer; though the pilot on board sent to tell him
that it was time she was off. "Yes, yes; but I want as much water as I
can get," answered the manager; and so he held on till, I suppose, the
tide had raised the river Dee to its very acme of height. At last the
word was given; the ship began slowly to move; Mrs. ------ threw the
bottle against the bow with a spasmodic effort that dashed it into a
thousand pieces, and diffused the fragrance of the old port all around,
where it lingered several minutes.
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