ing, in the name of the city, those who had so
public-spiritedly consented to participate in the exercises of the
occasion.

"I jest despise the beggin' pieces in it," growled Disko. "It don't
give folk a fair notion of us."

"Ef folk won't be fore-handed an' put by when they've the chance,"
returned Salters, "it stands in the nature o' things they hev to be
'shamed. You take warnin' by that, young feller. Riches endureth but
for a season, ef you scatter them araound on lugsuries--"

"But to lose everything, everything," said Penn. "What can you do then?
Once I"--the watery blue eyes stared up and down as if looking for
something to steady them--"once I read--in a book, I think--of a boat
where every one was run down--except some one--and he said to me--"

"Shucks!" said Salters, cutting in. "You read a little less an' take
more int'rust in your vittles, and you'll come nearer earnin' your
keep, Penn."

Harvey, jammed among the fishermen, felt a creepy, crawly, tingling
thrill that began in the back of his neck and ended at his boots. He
was cold, too, though it was a stifling day.

"That the actress from Philadelphia?" said Disko Troop, scowling at the
platform. "You've fixed it about old man Ireson, hain't ye, Harve? Ye
know why naow."

It was not "Ireson's Ride" that the woman delivered, but some sort of
poem about a fishing-port called Brixham and a fleet of trawlers
beating in against storm by night, while the women made a guiding fire
at the head of the quay with everything they could lay hands on.

"They took the grandma's blanket,
Who shivered and bade them go;
They took the baby's cradle,
Who could not say them no."

"Whew!" said Dan, peering over Long Jack's shoulder. "That's great!
Must ha' bin expensive, though."

"Ground-hog case," said the Galway man. "Badly lighted port, Danny."

* * * * * *
"And knew not all the while
If they were lighting a bonfire
Or only a funeral pile."

The wonderful voice took hold of people by their heartstrings; and when
she told how the drenched crews were flung ashore, living and dead, and
they carried the bodies to the glare of the fires, asking: "Child, is
this your father?" or "Wife, is this your man?" you could hear hard
breathing all over the benches.

"And when the boats of Brixham
Go out to face the gales,
Think of the love that travels
Like light upon their sails!"

There was ve