8 NEWFOUNDLAND 



death Birdie," and now on a visit to the island, as a "bony" warbler, 

 when it was obvious to the meanest intelligence that we meant "bonny." 

 Miss Birdie weighs somewhere about seventeen stone, so she arrived 

 at our office a bit flustered yesterday, and demanded an explanation of 

 our ungallant remarks. We need hardly say that Miss Birdie is far from 

 being " bony," and is a perfect lady in every respect. 



My canoes, bed, boxes of stores, and waterproof sheet 

 were all in readiness, so, leaving St. John's by the "accom- 

 modation " train at four in the evening, I was turned out 

 at Terra-Nova Station in the darkness at five the next 

 morning. 



Close to the line was a wooden building, where a small 

 boy of about eleven met me, rubbing his eyes. He said 

 his name was " Mike," and that he was the stationmaster, 

 his adopted father, one "Tim," being section man of this part 

 of the line. Mike I found was a bit of a character, and I 

 much enjoyed his chatter, and his views on the subject of 

 Newfoundland in particular and life in general. 



" You'd like to see my friends ? " he said. 



"Yes, certainly," I replied, wondering who his friends 

 could be in such an out-of-the-world corner. 



"Well, I'll bring them all ter breakfast with you," he 

 remarked drowsily, folding his arms under the telegraphic 

 instrument and composing himself for a few hours' sleep. Poor 

 child, he wanted it ; up six nights a week, and with a heavy 

 weight of responsibility on his little shoulders, no wonder he 

 was tired. We snatched forty winks when a cheery voice 

 from the door, saying, " Glad ye've come," woke me to see 

 for the first time Bob Saunders and the handsome face of 

 Jack Wells looking over his shoulder. 



It was nearly daylight by the time we had got all our 

 kit down to the river bank, and started the kettle for break- 



