“Sir Thomas,” I said, “I can’t say I hope she will win, but I hope she
will come so close to it that she will turn us all green with envy!”
“Ah, my boy, that’s the spirit,” he said; “that’s why it’s a pleasure
to race against you Americans. You meet a fellow more than half way.”
The “Erin” is no less beautiful than the racer. With the “Shamrock’s”
pennant at the foremast and the Stars and Stripes flying from the
after-pole, she is a model. Commodore Morgan says she is one of the
three finest ocean-going yachts in the world. The Prince and Princess
of Wales visited her often, and gave signed photographs of themselves
to hang in the elegant cabin. Admiral Dewey’s likeness hangs near
the “Columbia’s.” The appointments of the yacht are worthy of the
Waldorf-Astoria. Sir Thomas never leaves her, he told me, except to
go aboard the “Shamrock.” I could not blame him. Finding a pair of
upholstered steamer chairs forward, we dropped into them.
The conversation drifted into the early struggles of the baronet, to
the days when he did not own a floating palace or an international cup
challenger.