n
as the subject of Fish was exhausted, the exiles growled their comments
on Joe's new mainsail, or the lengthening of Jimmy's smack; but nowadays
the men's horizon is widened, and the little band of half a dozen who
meet the missionary are eager to learn, and eager to express their own
notions in their own simple fashion. The gentleman, of course, shows his
fine manners by granting attention to all his rough friends when they
talk, and the smacksmen find that, instead of a preacher only, a man who
withdraws himself to his private cabin when his discourse has been
delivered, they have among them a kindly fellow-worker, who enters with
the true spirit of _camaraderie_ into all that interests or concerns
them, and gives counsel and cheery chat without a sign of patronage.
Then, after the little meeting is over, and the evening begins to fall,
the fascinating landsman will stroll on the deck for a few minutes,
until the smack's boats come over the great seas to bear away the
visitors; all his gossip is like a revelation to the rude, good-hearted
creatures, and his words filter from vessel to vessel; his very accent
and tone are remembered; and when the hoarse salute "God bless you!"
sounds over the sea, as the boats go away, you may be sure that the
fishers utter their blessing with sincere fervour. Then there are the
great meetings on calm, happy Sundays, when the cultured clergyman who
has snatched a brief rest from his parochial duties, or five or six
amateurs (many of them University men) stroll about among the
congregation before the formal service begins. The roughs who come on
board for the first time are inclined to exhibit a sort of resentful but
sheepish reserve, until they find that the delicate courtesy of these
Christian gentlemen arises from sheer goodwill; then they become
friendly and confidential. Well, all this intercourse is gradually
knitting together the upper and middle classes on shore and the great
seagoing population; the fishers feel that they are cared for, and the
defiant blackguardism of the outcast must by and by be nearly unknown.
I feel it almost a duty to mention one curious matter which came to my
notice. An ugly morning had broken with half a gale of wind blowing; the
sea was not dangerous, but it was nasty--perhaps nastier than it looked.
I was on board a steam-carrier, a low-built, powerful iron vessel that
lunges in the most disturbing manner when she is waiting in the trough
of the sea