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man. 'A fig for superstition,' I said on Friday morning. 'That mast goes in today.' Everything was ready for the attempt. Carrying the boom-tackle to the windlass, I hoisted the mast nearly clear of the deck. Making this tackle fast, I took to the windlass the shears-tackle (which was connected with the end of the boom), and with a few turns had the mast perpendicular and clear. Maud clapped her hands the instant she was relieved from holding the turn, crying: 'It works! It works,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]! We'll trust our lives to it!' Then she assumed a rueful expression. 'It's not over the hole,' she said. 'Will you have to begin all over?' I smiled in superior fashion, and,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], slacking off on one of the boom-guys and taking in on the other, swung the mast perfectly in the center of the deck. Still it was not over the hole. Again the rueful expression came on her face, and again I smiled in a superior way. Slacking away on the boom-tackle and hoisting an equivalent amount on the shears-tackle,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], I brought the butt of the mast into position directly over the hole in the deck. Then I gave Maud careful instructions for lowering away,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and went into the hold to the step on the schooner's bottom. I called to her, and the mast moved easily and accurately. Straight toward the square hole of the step the square butt descended; but as it descended it slowly twisted, so that square would not fit into square. But I had not even a moment's indecision. Calling to Maud to cease
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