liate, when Lockley, seizing him by
the neck thrust him over the side into the boat, and ordered his more or
less drunken crew to follow. They did so with a bad grace, but the
order was given in a tone which they well understood must not be
disobeyed.

As they pushed off, Stubley staggered and fell into the sea. Another
moment and he would have been beyond all human aid, but Lockley caught a
glimpse of his shaggy black head as it sank. Plunging his long right
arm down, and holding on to the boat with his left, he caught the
drowning man by the hair. Strong and willing arms helped, and Stubley
was hauled inboard--restored to life, opportunity, and hope--and flung
into the bottom of the boat.

The oars were shipped, and they pulled for the _Lively Poll_. As they
rode away they saw that other boats were proceeding towards the _coper_.
The men in them were all anxious to buy baccy. No mention was made of
drink. Oh dear no! They cared nothing for that, though, of course,
they had no sort of objection to accept the wily Dutchman's generous
offer of "von leetle glass vor goot vellowship."

CHAPTER SIX.

THE POWER OF SYMPATHY.

One fine afternoon, not long after the visit to the _coper_, Bob
Lumsden, _alias_ Lumpy, was called from his culinary labours to assist
in hauling in the net.

Now it is extremely interesting to note what a wonderful effect the
power of loving sympathy can have on a human being. Lumpy was a human
being--though some of his mates insisted that he must have been
descended from a cod-fish, because his mouth was so large. No doubt it
was, and when the boy laughed heartily he was, indeed, apt to remind one
of that fish; nevertheless it was a good, well-shaped mouth, though
large, with a kindly expression about it, and a set of splendid white
teeth inside of it. But, whether human or fishy in his nature, Bob
Lumsden had been overwhelmed by a flood of sympathy ever since that
memorable day when he had first caught a glimpse of the sweet, pale face
of the little invalid Eve Mooney. It was but a brief glimpse, yet it
had opened a new sluice in Lumpy's heart, through which the waters of
tenderness gushed in a wild torrent.

One of the curious results of this flood was that Bob was always more
prompt to the summons to haul up the trawl than he had ever been before,
more energetic in clawing the net inboard, and more eager to see and
examine the contents of the cod-end. The explanation is si