204 LONGSHORE MEMORIES 
A boat is put out from the side of a ship at anchor. 
' Give way, lads, smart ! ' and the boat shoots through 
the water at racing pace, the oars going like clock- 
work. ' Bend to it, lads ; he's down for the second 
time ! ' No need to urge them, they are pulling for 
life. 
The swimmers know that the boat will reach him 
first, but, with their hearts in their mouths, on they 
swim. 
He shows for the last time. ' Pull, lads, we shall 
have him ! one more spurt for the love of God ! ' Too 
late. ' Well rowed, lads ! Try the grapples ! ' shouts 
one of the swimmers. But the tide has carried him 
no one knows where now. And the seaman's practised 
eye telling him the swimmers are well-nigh exhausted, 
he bids them get into the boat quick. On reaching 
the shore they put on their clothes with heavy hearts, 
and ask who will carry the tidings to his mother. The 
ringleader in all their mad freaks and pranks the 
boldest and most venturesome of the party is asked 
to do it ; but, with hot tears in his eyes, he refuses. 
She got the news quickly enough, poor soul, for a 
little lad who had been minding our clothes ran home 
in a fit of terror, telling everyone he met on his way 
up the street that poor Ned was drowned. ' Ah,' 
says one of the old fishermen, ' I knows where the 
