e most piteous cries.
'I felt more for him than I did for myself,' says John, 'and though one
moment lost in the trough of the sea, and the next on the crest of the
billows, now near the boat and again fifty yards from it, I cried out,
'Scull away. Bob, scull away, thou'll soon be at me.' After being in the
water half-an-hour I reached the boat in safety. All this time I had on
the following garments, made of very stout pilot-cloth: a pair of
trousers, a double-breasted waistcoat, a surtout coat, and a heavy great
coat, which came down to my ancles, a thick shawl round my neck, and a
new pair of Wellington boots on my feet. I had in my pockets the
following sums of money: L25 in bank notes; 25 sovereigns; L4 16s. 6d.
in silver, and 8d. in coppers; also a tobacco-box, a large pocket knife,
and a silver watch and guard. I made an attempt to throw off some of my
clothes, but the thought of losing another man's money checked me.
Besides, the suit of clothes I had on was bran-new, and being a poor
man, and only just earning a livelihood, I could not brook the thought
of having to get a new "rigging." When a wave carried me a great way
from the boat, I unbuttoned my coat and prepared to throw it off, that I
might more easily swim to land. And when it seemed certain I should have
to make this attempt, I felt for my knife, that I might cut off my
boots, and I believe I could have done it; but, after a desperate
effort, I approached within a few yards of the boat, when I again
buttoned my coat. I felt confident I could have reached the shore--a
distance of one mile--had I been compelled to make the trial. My
Wellington boots had nearly cost me my life, as they were heavy and
difficult to swim in, and I never wore a pair after this fearful night.'

[Sidenote: HIS SKILL AS A DIVER.]

There is another department of the art now under consideration, in which
our friend greatly excelled, namely, that of diving. There are few
divers who do not feel a kind of exultation in their power over the
element, and in their ability to move under the surface of the water
with ease and pleasure. Half a century ago, diving was a difficult and
dangerous art, demanding great skill and endurance; but modern science
has given the professional diver an almost perfect accoutrement, by
means of which he can literally walk down to the bottom of the sea, and
telegraph for as much air as he requires. Hence, it has been utterly
deprived of all dramatic eleme