ue, but which alone make the dangerous shore
possible for navigation. As the steamer puts in at Bear Cove, Poverty
Cove, Deadman's Cove, and Seldom-Come-By (this last from the fact
that, although boats pass, they seldom anchor there), out shoot the
little rowboats to fetch their freight. It is certainly a wonderfully
fascinating coast, beautifully green and wooded in the south, and
becoming bleaker and barer the farther north one travels. But the bare
ruggedness and naked strength of the north have perhaps the deeper
appeal. To those who have to sail its waters and wrest a living from
the harvest of the sea, this must be a cruel shore, with its dangers
from rocks and icebergs and fog, and insufficient lighting and
charting.

Apart from the glory of the scenery the journey leaves much to be
desired, and the weather, being exceedingly stormy since we left the
ice field behind, has added greatly to our trials. The accommodations
on the boat are strictly limited, and it is crowded with fishermen
going north to the Labrador, and with patients for the Mission
Hospital. As they come on in shoals at each harbour the refrain
persistently runs through my head, "Will there be beds for all who
come?" But the answer, alas, does not fit the poem. Far from there
being enough and to spare, I know of two at least of my fellow
passengers who took their rest in the hand basins when not otherwise
wanted. Tables as beds were a luxury which only the fortunate could
secure. Almost the entire space on deck is filled with cargo of every
description, from building lumber to live-stock. While the passengers
number nearly three hundred, there are seating accommodations on four
tiny wooden benches without backs, for a dozen, if packed like
sardines. Barrels of flour, kerosene, or molasses provide the rest.
Although somewhat hard for a succession of days, these latter are
saved from the deadly ill of monotony by the fact that as they are
discharged and fresh taken on, such vantage-points have to be secured
anew from day to day; and one learns to regard with equanimity if not
with thankfulness what the gods please to send.

There are many sad, seasick souls strewn around. If cleanliness be
next to godliness, then there is little hope of this steamer making
the Kingdom of Heaven. One habit of the men is disgusting; they
expectorate freely over everything but the ocean. The cold outside is
so intense as to be scarcely endurable, while the closeness o