Mr J. Manes of Fourth Avenue, Newhaven, Connecticut, has invented a new

kind of life-boat which seems to possess features worthy of notice.

‘His boat consists of a hollow globe of metal or wood, ballasted at the

bottom, so that it will always right itself immediately on touching

the water, and can never capsize even in the roughest sea. It has

compartments for water, medical stores and provisions, bull’s-eyes

to let in the light, a door for ingress and egress, a porthole for

hoisting signals to the mast, comfortable seats all around the inside

for the passengers, and a double hollow mast for supplying fresh

air, and for carrying off that which has become vitiated. On the

outside of the Globe boat runs a gallery, for the use of sailors in

rowing, hoisting sail, discharging rockets, or steering. Of course the

cases would be very rare when rowing, sailing, or steering would be

required, but in case of need, all three could be easily managed.’

In such a boat—which is like a large buoy fitted with a mast—the

passengers would be protected from rain and wind, and consequently to a

great extent from cold. This seems to us to be a very important point,

as many a shipwrecked person escapes drowning only to perish from

exposure to the weather. Mr Manes suggests that a propeller might be

attached to the boat to be worked by a crank turned by the passengers

on the inside. It is calculated that a boat twelve feet in diameter

would carry about fifty passengers, and that it could be carried on

deck or hung over the stern on davits, in either of which positions

it might be used as a cabin during the voyage; and further, if hung

on a universal point like a compass, it would retain its equilibrium

no matter what the motion of the ship might be, thus affording a safe

retreat for persons subject to sea-sickness.

AWA’.

LINES WRITTEN ON THE DEATH OF JEANIE, A FAVOURITE CHILD, AGED SEVEN

YEARS.

Thou ’rt lyin’ cauld an’ still, my bonnie bonnie;

The dews o’ death lie heavy on thy broo;

Thy sunny smile nae mair will thrill this bosom;

Thy sweet blue een are dark an’ sichtless noo!

Hushed is thy fairy tread, my bonnie bonnie;

Thy lips sae rosy red, I’ll kiss nae mair.

O heavy thocht, that dims this ee wi’ sadness!

O heart that fain wad break, wi’ anguish sair!

I cry thy name in vain, my bonnie bonnie;

For aye thy form, thy dear-loved form I see;

O face sae fair! O locks o’ golden splendour!

O guileless heart, that fondly throbbed for me!

A dreary blank is mine, my bonnie bonnie;

Nae mair thy merry voice will cheer my ha’;

An eerie stillness fills the darksome dwelling,

Since thou, my sweetest flower, wert ta’en awa’!

The angels cam’ for thee, my bonnie bonnie,

As saftly flickered oot life’s feeble flame:

The tender Shepherd took thee to His bosom,

An’ left me wi’ a lanely, lanely hame!

But oh! thou ’rt wi’ the blest, my bonnie bonnie,

Where pain will rend thy gentle breist nae mair;

Oh, when this weary heart lays doun its sorrow,

My ain wee lassie, may I meet thee there!

JAMES SMITH.

* * * * *

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Printed and Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster Row, LONDON,

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Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 740, March 2, 1878 · 第 4 / 4 段