“There aren’t so many wrecks, Dolly, for one thing. And then, in the old days, before steam, and the great big ships they have now, even the most valuable cargoes were carried in wooden ships that were at the mercy of these great storms.”
“Oh, and now they send those things in the big ships that are safer, I suppose?”
“Yes. You very seldom hear of an Atlantic liner being wrecked, you know. It does happen once in a great while, of course, but they are much more likely to reach the port they sail for than the old wooden ships. In the old days many and many a ship sailed that was never heard of, but you could count the ships that have done that in the last few years on the fingers of one hand.”
“But there was a frightful wreck not so very long ago, wasn’t there? The Titanic?”
“Yes. That was the most terrible disaster since men have gone to sea at all. You see, she was so much bigger, and could carry so many more people than the old ships, that, when she did go down, it was naturally much worse. But the wreckers never made any profit out of her. She went down in the middle of the ocean, and no one will ever see her again.”
“Couldn’t divers go down after her?”
“No. She was too deep for that. Divers can only go down a certain distance, because, below that, the pressure is too great, and they wouldn’t live.”
“Stop talking and attend to your dinner, Dolly,” said Margery, suddenly. “You pretended you were hungry, and now you’re so busy talking that you’re forgetting about the rest of us. We’re hungry, too. Just remember that!”
“I can talk and work at the same time,” said Dolly. “Is everything ready? Because, if it is, so is dinner. Come on, girls! The clams first. I’ve cooked it—I’m not going to put it on the table, too.”
“No, we ought to be glad to get any work out of her at all,” laughed Margery, as she carried the steaming, savory clams to the table. “I suppose every time we want her to do some work the rest of the time we’re here, she’ll tell us about this dinner.”