oices took up the chorus:

"In red, in red, he's all in red,
My love is a soldier dressed in red".

Katherine stood listening while the chorus ended. Then Mrs. Jenkin
started on afresh: "My love is a sailor clothed in blue".

But this was too much, and Katherine, pushing the door hurriedly
open, forgetting the small ceremony of knocking, crossed the
threshold and stood, a dripping figure, just inside the door.

"My dear Miss Radford, what is the matter?" cried the little woman,
jumping up in such a hurry that she upset the baby on to the floor,
where he lay and yelled, more from consternation than because he
was hurt.

Katherine hesitated. Where could she begin? But then, to her
surprise, Mrs. Jenkin burst out excitedly: "You surely haven't been
putting any belief in that story that Oily Dave has been going
round with this morning?"

"Isn't it true?" faltered Katherine; then, feeling suddenly weak,
she dropped into the nearest seat, and tried to keep her lips from
quivering.

"Did you ever know him speak the truth, the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth?" demanded Mrs. Jenkin scornfully, as she
picked up the yelling infant and cuddled him into quiet again.

"But the others were with him, Jean Doulais, and Mickey White, and
they found the boat of the _Mary_," faltered Katherine,

"What of that?" cried Mrs. Jenkin. "The _Mary_ had two boats, and
one might easily have got adrift through accident. I laughed in
his face when he told about the water jar and the bag of biscuit.
Nick Jones and Stee always keep water and biscuit in the little
boats when they are hoping for a whale, for sometimes it is a long
chase, and then the men get just about worn out."

"The fleet boats have been very safe so far," remarked Katherine,
trying to find comfort from the little woman's cheery front, yet
rather failing.

"Yes, the safest boats that go fishing in the bay, my man says, and
he reckons it is because they are so small and well built," Mrs.
Jenkin went on, plainly delighted to have a visitor, and evidently
not much concerned about her husband's safety. "But slip that wet
coat off, dear, and come closer to the stove; this damp makes us
chilly, and reminds us that winter will soon be sneaking up at the
back of the wind. You surely are not out delivering goods on a
morning like this?"

"No, I came because I was so sorry for you," Katherine answered
simply.

"Now, that is the real sort of friendship, and I