and Captain Clegg, have been signed by living witnesses, and most of
them were reported in the local newspapers, at the time of their
occurrence. Many of these persons are still living; some of them I see
almost daily, and _they_ can speak for themselves. If I have made a
mistake in spelling their names, or in relating the time when, or the
circumstances under which, I saved them, I shall be glad to be
corrected. And if I have offered an unkind reflection on any of my
fellow creatures, or recorded a boastful sentence respecting what my
fellow townsmen have been pleased to call my "deeds of daring," I hope
to be forgiven by God, whose I am and whom I serve. Finally: as a large
circle of my friends are anxious to have a true record of all the lives
I have saved, I shall be highly pleased if any whom I have rescued, but
whose names I have not recorded, will send me a few lines that may add
to the interest of this little book, should a second edition be called
for.'

[Illustration: Signature of John Ellerthorpe]

CHAPTER VII.

HIS GALLANT AND HUMANE CONDUCT IN RESCUING THE DROWNING.

_First._--JOHN ELLERTHORPE.[1] (1820.)

He was my father, and I was not more than fourteen years of age when I
saved him. At the time he managed the ferry boat from Hessle to Barton.
It required two persons to conduct the boat across the Humber, and as it
cost my father a shilling each time he employed a man to assist him
across, he often took me with him instead of a man, and thus saved the
shilling. One morning, he took Mr. Thompson, corn miller, to Barton, and
engaged to fetch him back at night; and there was this agreement between
them, that my father was to receive the fare whether Mr. T---- returned
or not. He did not return that night, though we waited for him until
nine o'clock. The snow was then thick on the ground, the wind was
blowing strong, and the waves were beginning to rise high in the Humber,
and I was sitting, half-asleep, at the corner of a comfortable hearth,
before a bright fire, when my father called out, 'Come, my boy, we'll be
off.' We were soon in the boat, but had not got many yards, when my
father fell overboard. I remember crying out most piteously, 'Oh, my
father is overboard,' when I instantly plunged into the water and soon
had fast hold of him. He had sunk to the bottom, a depth of sixteen
feet, for when he came up he was covered with mud. We came up close to
the boat's side, and, making a tremendou