ship up on the shore.
The man's bulky form was immovable. Seeing this, they changed their
plan, and, all three grasping his legs, slewed him partially round, and
thus drew his feet out of the water.

"Now, we must warm him," said Corrie, eagerly, for, the first shock of
the discovery of the supposed dead body of his friend being over, the
sanguine boy began to entertain hopes of resuscitating him. "I've heard
that the best thing for drowned people is to warm them; so, Alice, do
you take one hand and arm, Poopy will take the other, and I will take
his feet, and we'll all rub away till we bring him too--for we must, we
_shall_ bring him round."

Corrie said this with a fierce look and a hysterical sob. Without more
words he drew out his clasp-knife, and, ripping up the cuffs of the
man's coat, laid bare his muscular arm. Meanwhile Alice untied his
neckcloth, and Poopy tore open his Guernsey frock and exposed his broad
brown chest.

"We must warm that at once," said Corrie, beginning to take off his
jacket, which he meant to spread over the seaman's breast.

"Stay, my petticoat is warmer," cried Alice, hastily divesting herself
of a flannel garment of bright scarlet, the brilliant beauty of which
had long been the admiration of the entire population of Sandy Cove.
The child spread it over the seaman's chest, and tucked it carefully
down at his sides, between his body and the wet garments. Then the
three sat down beside him, and, each seizing a limb, began to rub and
chafe with a degree of energy that nothing could resist! At any rate it
put life into John Bumpus, for that hardy mariner gradually began to
exhibit signs of returning vitality.

"There he comes," cried Corrie, eagerly.

"Eh!" exclaimed Poopy, in alarm.

"Who? where?" inquired Alice, who thought that the boy referred to some
one who had unexpectedly appeared on the scene.

"I saw him wink with his left eye--look!" All three suspended their
labour of love, and, stretching forward their heads, gazed with
breathless anxiety at the clay-coloured face of Jo.

"I must have been mistaken," said Corrie, shaking his head.

"Go at him agin," cried Poopy, recommencing her work on the right arm
with so much energy that it seemed marvellous how she escaped skinning
that limb from fingers to shoulder.

Poor Alice did her best, but her soft little hands had not much effect
on the huge mass of brown flesh they manipulated.

"There he comes again!" shouted