per; but little is written on the modern man of
this species. Mr. Cutting is not accustomed to the glare of the city's
lights, but he knows the glare of a lighthouse-lantern and all the
various wonders of the work.

Inside the annex to the lighthouse were the duplicate engines for
filling tanks with compressed air. This air is used for blowing the
foghorns, and when they sound everybody in the locality knows it.

"Enough air is stored in those tanks," declared Mr. Cutting, "to keep
the foghorns going for twenty minutes. That gives us time to get the
engines running."

He went into details of the engines, showing that he knew them by heart,
and I could almost imagine the blurring, deafening sound which for
seven seconds rent the air through the roar of winds every minute and a
half.

"Fog, as you know, is the dread of every sea captain," said Mr. Cutting.
"Out yonder you see the 'Three Stone Orr Rocks.' This is a dangerous bit
of scenery in foggy weather. When we have a fog, two men are on duty;
one if it is clear."

We then went to the lighthouse tower, which stands nearly 200 feet above
high water. To the right, on entering that building, was a blacksmith's
shop, with an anvil, forge, and various implements. This forge is
occasionally needed to make repairs, spare parts, and accessories of the
engines of the lighthouse. To the right, in a corridor, were
speaking-tubes.

"Those tubes go to the bedside of every man employed here," said Mr.
Cutting. "We have only to blow, and in a few minutes he comes up to the
lighthouse. Our houses are over there, in the same structure as the
tower. They are practically the lower portion of the main building."

He conducted the way up the narrow, winding stairs. At the head of the
first flight I saw a green-covered book, in which every man on watch
makes his entry of the weather, the velocity of the wind, and so forth.

"Many a man's word has been corrected by that book," said the P.K. "And
here's the book for privileged visitors, for nobody comes here without
the proper credentials."

There were names of famous persons inscribed in the book, which was kept
as neatly and cleanly as everything else in the place.

"Now we'll go up to the lantern," said the old man. Old, but lithe,
strong, and keen-eyed. He is particularly fond of this lantern, and was
remarkably lucid in explaining everything concerning the working of it.

"Does the sea ever come up as high as this?" I asked.