offices, he filled those of barber and steward to the admiration of
all.

But Bremner came out in quite a new and valuable light after he went
to reside in the beacon--namely, as a storyteller. During the long
periods of inaction that ensued, when the men were imprisoned there
by storms, he lightened many an hour that would have otherwise hung
heavily on their hands, and he cheered the more timid among them by
speaking lightly of the danger of their position.

On the signal for supper being given, there was a general rush down
the ladders into the kitchen, where as comfortable a meal as one
could wish for was smoking in pot and pan and platter.

As there were twenty-three to partake, it was impossible, of course,
for all to sit down to table. They were obliged to stow themselves
away on such articles of furniture as came most readily to hand, and
eat as they best could. Hungry men find no difficulty in doing this.
For some time the conversation was restricted to a word or two. Soon,
however, as appetite began to be appeased, tongues began to loosen.
The silence was first broken by a groan.

"Ochone!" exclaimed O'Connor, as well as a mouthful of pork and
potatoes would allow him; "was it _you_ that groaned like a dyin'
pig?"

The question was put to Forsyth, who was holding his head between his
hands, and swaying his body to and fro in agony.

"Hae ye the oolic, freen'?" enquired John Watt, in a tone of
sympathy.

"No--n--o," groaned Forsyth, "it's a--a--to--tooth!"

"Och! is that all?"

"Have it out, man, at once."

"Bam a red-hot skewer into it."

"No, no; let it alone, and it'll go away."

Such was the advice tendered, and much more of a similar nature, to
the suffering man.

"There's nothink like 'ot water an' cold," said Joe Dumsby in the
tones of an oracle. "Just fill your mouth with bilin' 'ot water, an'
dip your face in a basin o' cold, and it's sartain to cure."

"Or kill," suggested Jamie Dove.

"It's better now," said Forsyth, with a sigh of relief. "I scrunched
a bit o' bone into it; that was all."

"There's nothing like the string and the red-hot poker," suggested
Ruby Brand. "Tie the one end o' the string to a post and t'other end
to the tooth, an' stick a red-hot poker to your nose. Away it comes
at once."

"Hoot! nonsense," said Watt. "Ye might as weel tie a string to his
lug an' dip him into the sea. Tak' my word for't, there's naethin'
like pooin'."

"D'you mean pooh pooin'?" e