320 CONFESSIONS OF A BEACHCOMBER 



utmost, the owners, with two black boys, managed to save 

 the boat, but all the food on board was ruined, and blankets 

 and clothing saturated. Hungry and dejected the party 

 prepared to put away the time until the weather calmed. 

 In the afternoon, fortune smiled. Another cutter came in 

 sight, and with the assistance of those on shore, managed 

 to get into safety and shelter. All hands were liberally 

 treated to needful refreshment. " Say when ! " said the 

 cheery Boss, as he poured a revivifying dose of whisky into 

 a pannikin held by the expectant but shivering boy. The 

 elixir gurgled and glittered before his fascinated eyes until 

 the pannikin held enough for two stiff nobblers, without 

 evoking any polite verbal restraint. " My word ! " said the 

 Boss, at last, " that boy can't say when." 



Awkward Cross-Examination 



Mickie and Jinny being privileged became familiar, and 

 spoke all sorts of confidences in the ears of their mistress. 

 Visitors came, an old friend and her daughters, a blonde and 

 a brunette. The contrast in the types of the girls puzzled 

 Mickie. He took an early opportunity to cross-examine 

 one from whom he thought he could obtain confidential 

 information. " What Gwen sister belonga Glad ? " he asked. 

 " Yes, Mickie." " Same mother ? " queried Mickie. "Yes, 

 of course." Then came without hesitation or reserve the 

 dumbfounding question : " Same father ? " 



The Only Rock 



Some may sneer when absolute originality is claimed 

 for the following little anecdote, for almost a facsimile of it 

 happens to be among the most time-honoured of jests. 

 Rounding Clump Point in a light centre-board cutter, the 

 Boss, who was steering, asked Willie, whose local know- 

 ledge was being relied on : " Any stone here, Willie ? " 

 " Yes," was the response, " one fella." The words were yet 

 on the lips of the boy when the centre-board jumped with 



