ejected
because of his age.

Uncle Tom, his patriotism not in the least dampened, returned to his
Labrador home and divided all the fur of his winter's hunt into two
equal piles. To one pile he added a ten dollar bill, and that pile,
with the ten dollars added, he shipped at once to the "Patriotic Fund"
in St. Johns. He had offered himself, and they would not take him, and
this was all he could do to help win the war, and he did it freely and
wistfully, out of his noble, generous patriotic soul.

"What is the trouble, Uncle Tom?" asked Grenfell, when Uncle Tom had
to some extent regained his composure, and the old man told his
story.

He was in hard luck. Late the previous fall (1920) or early in the
winter he had met with a severe accident that had resulted in several
broken ribs. Navigation had closed, and he was cut off from all
surgical assistance, and his broken ribs had never had attention and
had not healed. He could scarcely draw a breath without pain, or even
rest without pain at night, and he could not go to his trapping path.

He depended upon his winter's hunt mainly for support, and with no fur
to sell he was, for the first time in his life, compelled to contract
a debt. Then, suddenly, the trader with whom he dealt discontinued
giving credit. Uncle Tom was stranded high and dry, and when the
fishing season came he had no outfit or means of purchasing one, and
could not go fishing.

Besides his wife there were six children in Uncle Tom's family, though
none of them was his own or related to him. When the "flu" came to the
coast in 1918, and one out of every five of the people around Turnavik
Islands died, several little ones were left homeless and orphans. The
generous hearts of Uncle Tom and his wife opened to them and they took
these six children into their home as their own. And so it happened
that Uncle Tom had, and still has, a large family depending upon him.

"As we neared the cottage," said Doctor Grenfell, "his good wife,
beaming from head to foot as usual, came out to greet us. Optimist to
the last ditch, she _knew_ that somehow provision would be made. She,
too, had had her troubles, for twice she had been operated on at
Indian Harbor for cancer."

Uncle Tom must have suffered severely during all those months that he
had lived with his broken ribs uncared for. Now Dr. Grenfell, without
loss of time, strapped them up good and tight. Mrs. Grenfell supplied
the six youngsters with a fine ou