While the war cloud was gathering over Europe, which in bursting produced the Crimean War, the Cork Steamship Co. had on the stocks a steamer, afterwards named the CORMORANT. In the equipment of this steamer a novel feature had been introduced, viz., iron masts. These masts, of which she carried three, were exceptionally tall and graceful, and so well buckled that not a joint was visible. The whole appearance of the vessel was so smart that she excited general admiration, and was selected by the Government as a transport. While she was lying at Portsmouth, after the embarkation of the 13th Lancers for the seat of war, Her (late) Majesty Queen Victoria, accompanied by the Prince Consort, came on board to inspect her before sailing. After inspecting the troopers’ quarters, and admiring some of their horses, Her Majesty discovered that the ship’s masts were not wood but iron. She was so impressed with their graceful appearance that she gave instructions for full particulars of them to be taken by the Dockyard officials. Two other steamers of the Company—the DODO (nicknamed the rolling Dodo) and the ALBATROSS—were also engaged by the Government as transports. At the Crimea, as well as at home, the CORMORANT’s masts excited great interest. One day a Turkish Admiral came on board, and a quartermaster was told off to show the distinguished visitor round the ship. The Admiral came to the mainmast, examined it, tapped it, and turning to his attendant, said:— “I-ron?” “Yes, your Excellency.” “Sō-lid?” “No, you blithering fool; it’s hollow,” was the reply, except that the adjective used was more forcible than the one we have given. Amongst the vessels which were at the Crimea at this time was an American schooner, the captain of which was very proud of his craft, and was continually boasting of her beauty and of the lofty masts she carried. He “challenged creation to find her ditto.” One day when he was boasting in his usual strain, Captain Byrne, who was present, said quietly, “What might the height of your masts be, captain?” “Every inch of 90 feet, I guess,” replied the American. “Well,” said Captain Byrne, “I can show you a ship with taller masts than that.” “Where?” “In this harbour, on my ship.” To settle the dispute the two captains proceeded to the CORMORANT. Now it must be confessed that the CORMORANT’s masts had not been scraped for some time, and were so streaked with paint and grease that they might easily be mistaken for pine. The American captain came to the foot of the mainmast and looked up. “Great Cæsar! What height do you call that?” “120 feet,” replied Captain Byrne. “Is it all one piece?” asked the other. “There’s not a splice in it from heel to truck,” was the reply. “I calculate that timber was raised in Oregon,” said the American. “No, it was not.” “Well, do tell, where did it grow?” “That, sir,” quoth Captain Byrne, “was raised in Cork.”