A painted ship upon a painted ocean is the Ambrose. Until last week she had not moved, except up and down with the tides, for 22 years. The steam that has been up in her boilers all that time was at last put to work, the pinochle game of a generation in her saloon was for once interrupted, her crew of 14 at last had something to do besides polish brass and blow the siren, as she pointed her blunt prow for a momentous voyage.
From her pinprick on the world's...
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