He made no answer, and was about to resume his work.
“Here,” said I, “there is no thirstier work than hammering,” and I gave him a shilling. “How do you get the iron plates which cover these ribs to fit?”
“They’re rolled,” he replied, pocketing the shilling with a look around.
“The part of the plate that overhangs another,” said I, “is, I think, called the landing?”
“Ay,” said he, “the lannin’, that’s right.”
“Do you see this landing, here?” I asked. “I’m not sure that I couldn’t put my little finger between.”
“Oh, the rivets ’ll draw that into its place,” said the man.
“True,” I exclaimed; “but you wouldn’t call it a fit?”
“No,” he answered; “I wouldn’t call it a fit, but the rivets ’ll make it one.”
“But, don’t you see,” said I, “that by prizing these plates together with the rivets you are putting work on the rivets for which they are not designed? If the blow of a sea springs the rivets, the plates must yawn. At this rate it seems to me that the rivets not only keep the plates together, but actually give the hull its shape.”