FISHERMEN'S OWN BOOK. 191 



— hours of dreadful agony — while I was being resuscitated, were it not to 

 mention the conduct of my men, all of whom showed a devotion and noble- 

 ness of spirit rarely equalled and never excelled. Though in almost mo- 

 mentary expectation of death themselves, they continued their efforts for my 

 relief with extraordinary zeal and coolness. Fortunately I could speak soon 

 after being taken into the cabin, and was thus able to direct what should be 

 done both for myself and for the safety of the vessel. 



We had only three more squalls after I was struck by lightning ; those 

 were not so heavy as the previous ones, and after they were past, the wind 

 soon subsided to an ordinary gale. 



After recovering sufficiently to examine my injuries, I found that the light- 

 ning had ploughed along my right arm from the wrist to above the elbow, 

 scorching it severely ; while five smaller burns were on my right leg below 

 the knee, mostly about the ankle. My right side was paralyzed, and I could 

 not stand on my feet for several days. 



We started for home as soon as the gale was over, but had a long, hard 

 passage. My burns were so painful that when we got as far as Liverpool, 

 N. S., we went in there for medical assistance, and arrived home the 23d 

 of December. 



THACHER'S ISLAND. 



BY THOMAS J. PARTRIDGE. 



Hail, ye stately columns on that rock-bound isle, 

 That cast your lurid warnings far out for many a mile, 

 To warn the hardy mariner of the jagged rocks so dread, — • 

 Who safely into harbor by your brilliant lights is led. 



How sad to part from one who has proved a friend in need. 

 Or wave adieu to loving ones who come to say, " God-speed ;" 

 Thus must the sturdy fisher feel as he leaves thee far astern. 

 Bound off for Georges stormy Bank, pei-haps ne'er to return. 



Majestic forms 1 you rear your lordly heads as if to emphasize 

 The great and glorious good that's done by thy two fiery eyes. 

 And when the golden sun is hid behind Bond's rocky sod, 

 You throw them far out o'er the sea, from Boon Island to Cape Cod. 



With what an anxious, beating heart have fishers watched for thee, 

 When almost home from the Grand Bank or Fundy's stormy sea; 

 By signs, log, compass, and by chart and reckoning, they knew 

 That Thacher's welcome twin lights must soon come into view. 



Watching as only mortals watch when they know the port is near 

 That holds within its sacred walls all they consider dear; 

 And when at last their eye doth rest upon thy garnished domes. 

 Then bubble up four English words— wife, children, rest and home. 



