"Yes," said Waldron; "this is the greatest place for building steamboats in the world."
"Except New York," said Rollo.
"O, of course, except New York," replied Waldron. "But they build all the big English steamers in this river. All the Cunarders were built here, and they have got some of the best machine shops and founderies here that there are in the world. I should like to go all about and see them, if I could only get away from my mother."
"Why, won't she let you go?" said Rollo.
"No," replied Waldron, "not if she knows it. She thinks I am a little boy, and is so afraid that I shall get hurt!"
Waldron pronounced the word hurt in a drawling and contemptuous tone, which was so comical that Rollo could not help laughing outright.
"I go to all the ship yards and founderies in New York whenever I please," continued Waldron. "I go when she does not know it. Sometimes the men let me help them carry out the melted iron, and pour it into the moulds."
By this time the two boys had reached the place where Mr. George was. He was sitting on what is called a camp stool, and was engaged in reading his guide book, and studying the map, with a view of finding out what route it would be best to take in the tour they were about making in Scotland. Mr. George drew the boys into conversation with him on the subject. His object was to become acquainted with Waldron, and find out what sort of a boy he was.
"Where do you wish to go, Waldron?" said Mr. George.
"Why, I want to stay here a good many days," said Waldron, "to see the steamers and the dockyards. They are building a monstrous iron ship, somewhere here. She is going to be five hundred tons bigger than the Baltic."