MYOLDBOAT 73 



most, swept out to sea in the grip of the gale. They 

 watched it out of sight, then, soaked to the skin 

 but heeding not, they turned to walk along the rocks 

 to their home. 



And old Kornelius was telling me the story. 

 " Our boat is lost," he said ; " we cannot fish " ; 

 and again he turned his pleading eyes upon me. 

 "If it is impossible," he said, "we will not mind, 

 but if it is not impossible may I have your old 

 boat.?" 



My old boat ! What a simple request, but how 

 important to old Kornelius ! He had said truly when 

 he told me that he had weighty words to say, for 

 though that battered old punt meant little to me, it 

 meant much to old Kornelius. My old boat ! There 

 she lay upon the beach, judged unfit for further 

 mending. I had thought her work was done, and 

 had planned her, in my mind, to be chopped into 

 kindling wood for our fires on the cold winter morn- 

 ings. But it would seem that her days were not yet 

 done ; she was to see a further term of service be- 

 fore ending her days as firewood. " May you have 

 my old boat } Yes, old friend, if you think you can 

 patch her up and make her seaworthy, and if you 

 deem her worth the trouble you will spend upon 

 her." 



Kornelius overflowed with thanks . ' ' Nakomek , ' ' 

 he said "nakomek" (how thankful) ; and it was 

 with a brighter face and a brisker step that he left 

 my room that morning to climb the hill to his own 

 little hut and break the good news to Maria. 



