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an east 0’ that; then forty miles to th’ no’th-east there, and another twenty to the east’ard 0’ that. which puts us twenty mjlgs to th‘ no'th‘ard 9’ Sable Islanfi. Fifteeh nnles east. 0’ that puts firs. on Quero here, an‘ fortyâ€"seven fathom fine sand an‘ small stones 'ud put us here, I cal‘late. Am I right?” "gnaw Mm“ ' are; gn‘ggoagdraazh- ail-marked map. “Lemme see,” he muttered. opening a pair of dividers, “we made our first berth after leavin’ Canso last time jest on this spot here. Then we hauled out a bit more bh’ next set an’ made a berth twentyfive miles to 111' south- east; 0‘ that; then forty miles to th' Shorty wash ack in a few minutes to find his uncle poring over a chart. “Well?” he interrogated. “Fortyâ€"seven fathomâ€"fine sand an’ small stones." “Huh! Come over here an' look on (z'ms chart. D’ye know whar’ ye are?" “Yes, it is,” assented the other, “an' when ye git a big swell runnin’ up from tli’ south-east an' a greasy, dirty-lookin’ sky, what would you opine?" “Dirty weather, Uncle." “Yes, dirty weather; an’ it’s liable t’ come quick an' sudden. That’s why I called th' dories back afore they started making another set. We’ve hed fine weather all September. an’ when ye carry it well inter October ye’re ’most bound t’ git a matter t’ make up for‘t. Th’ Western Ocean never gives ye too much of a good filling. Go up on deck now an' take a sound afore we break the anchor out.” “See here, Frank.” The boy stepped forward. “Look at th' glass. D’ye see whqt‘ itrrsays?" “Yes,” vanswered the youngster. “Twenty-nine an’ thnee-tenths. Very low, Uncleâ€"” Copyrigm by The Musson Book Company How "’5 Story Started. “ Frank Westhnver“, known “3 Shorty," lives at Long Cove 0“ Bay of Fundy coast with his mother and 1113 uncle, Captain Jerry Clark._ He and his chum Lemuel Ring» drmk .“ bottle of rum, whereupon Frank. uncle tells him the story of hls fath- er’s fondness for drink and how the “Grace Wes'thaver" went down 0“ Sable Island with ten of her eljeW an“ her skipper. This has the desued ef- fe'ct upon Frank He finishes ach°°1 wzlth credit to himse’i and 599025 111° summer as an apprentice to. Long chk" Jennings. In August 1‘15 uncle takes him on a fishing trip as .spam hand aboard the Kastalia, W1?“e 8“ 1'__ The skippet’s voice rolled from aft. “Heave short on th’ cable! Frank and Jules! Come aft here an’ git th’ stops off th’ mains’l!” The boys obeyed the call. “What’s goin’ on, Uncle?” asked Shorty, as he stepped into the cabin with an armful of stops. Captain Clark was regard- ing the barometer attentively. gago;:m;n;3"am““?m“mse fishing trip, Frank rescues a French boy from fl4r¢atm§n¢ by hi; f‘el‘loWâ€"saflors. ‘ AA AA"! fié.vt;rvg.i);§s gy {Keir Eel-rid at do?! fishing with success. Removing the pen-boards, thwarts, buoy, anchors, and gurdy winch, they puflded out the plug and sluiced the boat with a few buckets of waper. “Let th’ boys be, Jud, or flh’ fust thing you know they’ll be cuttin’ ye down to yer boot-straps. Ha! ha! That’s a good one. Settin’ for Whales! Ho! ho!” And Haskins, though vexed over the loss of a tu of gear, laughed with the rest. - “Mr’ now,” observed Shorty when the dory had been drained and the gear stowed away, “that’s th’ way you fellem ought t’ g0 a-fishin'. Ninety- edg'ht fish for one tu‘b, an’ all runnin’ large; th’ gear nricely coiled, an’ th’ dory drained clean. Ef some 0’ you lazy shackers ’ud take a lesson from Sa’bot an’ me, ye'd become good fish- ermen in time. As it is, ye’re a very ornery bunch o‘ trawl-haulers. Jud Haskins and Joe Mil‘ligan especially. Cod ain’t big enough for themâ€"they must go aâ€"settin‘ for whales!" There was a roar of laughter from the group, and the indignant Haskins reached for a stray piece of buoy-line. “Infernal imps!” he growled. “I’ll taniye, my sons." SEGNMS IN STOCK "for immediate shipment â€"â€" Quantity of Strombergâ€"Carlson 2A Head Sets, No. I47 Jacks and No. 60 Plugs. \Ve are distributors. Satisfaction Guaranteed or Money Refunded AUTOMATIC TELEPHONES AND TIME RECORDERS. LTD. 140 Victoria 81’... Toronto Representatives Wanted Frank, that’ \‘ow fetch ye CHAPTER SIXâ€"(Cont’d.) iomplete Radio Receiving Sets ready for shipment Marconi Model C â€"â€" Amrad â€" De Forest PDE‘I' nineteer BLUE WATER BY FREDERICK WILLIAM WALLACE. ided , i“Jest like 0p1 hundred an' fifty Ah. here she A TALE OF THE DEEP SEA FISHERMEN 'Xe’re quite y when" we pens The south-eastern sky had taken on a darker hue; a feeling of sultriness pervaded the air, and the oilskinned gang, coming out of fo’c’sle and cabin, cast apprehensive glances to the south’ard. The skipper stood on the weather quarter staring at the leaden pall to windward; the men lounged around the 'house aft, smoking and talking in low tones, while the vessel rolled and pitched thundet'ously into the almost Windlass swell. “Stand by!" cried the skipper. A low hissing was heard; the murk to windward changed to a light grey, while the horizon stretched as a black line under it. A blast of heated air struck the vesselâ€"a mere puff which low hissing wa windward chan while the horizc line under it. | “Oh, yes, Carrie Dexter, that’s th’ name! Nice girlâ€"too good fer sich a hard-drinkin’, drivin’ dog like Shorty. I cal’late he’s aâ€"goin’ t’ g-it spliced as soon as he draws th’ share for that dory load 0’ cod he eotched this mornin’. Ha! ha!” And the men, Iheaving on the hal‘liard‘s, roared with laughter, while Shorty glowered at them under pent brows. l, Frank Westhaver was too quick- ;witted a boy to be “strung” for any length of time, and it was not long before he had turned the laugh upon some other member of the Kastalria’s gang. Upon a fishing vessel, joking and chatting predominate in the con- versation, and the foibles and idioâ€" 'syncrasies of each person aboard, ex- cept the skipper and the cook, are made the topic for banter and fun. A stout man is made aware of the fact that he is fleshiy in almost everything he does, and the lean ones are ragged in turn. Any person afflicted with a huge appetite for sleep soon hears about it: While the escapades. scrapes. The last fish had been stacked away, and the men had retired below for a. lay-off, When the skipper's voice hailed from the deck. “Oh, below! All up aantand 13y for squallsl" Getting the anchor aboard, they hoisted sail and lurched into a long swell under four lowers. There was very little wind, and during the after- wood, while the men dressed and salt- ed the fish of the morning set, the schooner wallowed and nolled with the slatti'ng of sails and the thunderous crashing of booms fetching up on the tackles. The sky became obscured with a greyish pall which could be seen scudding athwart the heavens before some air motion in the upper strata of atmosphere. Around the horizon the sealine stretched in an unâ€" definable circle of slaty mist, while the southerly swell rolled up in ever- increasing undulations. “Don’t know,” replied the boy. “He ain’t told me yet what he’s aâ€"goin’ t‘ do. When he does, I’ll let ye know!" And‘he winked sapcjly gt; the crowd. quintalâ€"more or less, an’ there’s ten thousand 0’ fish to be dressgdiyet.”r H S’horty jumped on deck. “ ‘H’ist th' main‘s’l, he says!” And the gang, lo'lrlring over the Windlass bmkes, came trooping aft._ “fs He swingin’ off, Shorty?” enâ€" quized .a .dozen..men;. W‘V‘Listen‘ to th’ shriIfxp!" cried a man. “Lord Harry! ye’d think he owned th’ vessel by the a_ir_s 0’ him.” in turn. Any person afflicted with a huge appetite for sleep soon hears about it; While the escapades, scrapes, and amours of every man aboard be- comes a topic for general conversa- tion. Idle talk is peculiar to fisher- menâ€"“scand‘alizin’” being a fine source for fo’c'sle' gossip. It is harmless though, and rarely cam- ried ashore, ’as most fishermen when their feet are on the dry land cut themselves: adrift from the rough- talking crudity of their sea life and change their manners with their en- vironment. ‘ “Um!” The skipper nodded. “All right, Frank. Go’n give a hand in gettin’ sail on her. Th’ awe-11’s kickin' wp more’n‘ ever. H’is_t th’ main_s’1!” “Ef I owned her, Tom Cantley. I wouldn’t carry you for ballast.” And in the roar of laughter which followed, Tom Cannley looked foolish and shook his fist at the sauvcy freckled youngster lolling lazily over the spokes of the wheel. “Come on thar’! Git that main's’l up you loafers!" he shouted. “Me’n Saimt ain’t a-goin’ t' wait all day on “Shorty's in a hurry t’ git back to that girl 0’ 'his 11 th’ Bay Shore. What’s her name, e'llers?” “Carrie Dexter, I cal’late,” answered Cantley, smiling at the blushing Frank. uck the vesse lied the listles Did ye feel t] Money Refunded '1" cried t] was heard hanged to rizon streh t. A blast ‘esselâ€"a m stless sails ml “Int?” l ‘enin’ a f u ace door “Run her off, skipper!" The ves- sel was driving her bows-prit into the seas, and it would have been as much as a man’s life was worth to have at- tempted to roll up the jib while the schooner was closeâ€"hauled. Quaint Chinese Orkgry in Prince’s Welcome. Quaintly worded was the address of welcome to the Prince of Wales .from the Chinese community of Hongkong during his visit there. It spoke of him as drawing nigh in princely array, and said: “Long have we looked up to your Royal Highness and now we wel- come you as plants the rain; with one accord we show forth our feelings of gladness and fashion our hymn of praise." Referring to the fact that the heir apparent of the British throne was on his first visit to the East, the address stated: “’Tis meet that the streets and the lanes resound with scng; high and low. the people dance with glndness; the willows that droon “This ain’t nawthin',’ ejaculated a fisherman. “Th’ real dirt’ll come in a minute.” He had hardly spoken be- fore sea and sky were blotted out in a whirl of white, which hissed and roar- ed as it rushed across the water. In- stantly the vessel was headed into it â€"â€"a wild, howling inferno of wind and hail. Hail which slashed like shoe upon the decks and caused the men to cower and hide their faces from its stinging lash, and windâ€"what a wind! The schooner rolled her lee deck under, While all hands hung on the rail to windward. The head-sails ("lapped in thunderous reports, the foresail slatted and fetched up on the tackles with nerve-rending shocks, While the sea pounded on the bluff of the bow and burst over the vessel in sightâ€"defying clouds of spray. Captain Clark was standing by the man at the wheel, his hat gone, and his face red with the sting of the hall; Shorty and Jules were clinging, bat-like, to the weather ma’in rigging, while the rest of the gang clung to the house, mainmast, or by the wea- ther dories. For several minutes the squall lasted, then came a lull which allowed the vessel to lift her deluged lee-rail. Someone star-he'd the foresheet, and the schooner sped before the fury of the blast, lurching and diving as she overran the seas. In a veil of spray the men clambered out on the foot- ropes of the bowsprit and laid hold of the slatbing jib. With growls and oaths they fisted the wind out of it, while a tiny oilskinned figure, grow- ling as loudly as the rest, clam-bered up the jibâ€"stay and stamped the hanks down with his feet. (To 'be continued.) Another puff, 5 strong, struck the rolled down until under. The wind Another pufl’, sharp, sudden, and strong, struck the schooner \and she rolled down until the lee rail went under. The wind whined in the rig- ging, and as the vessel gathered way upon her she headed close-hauled into the puffs and drove the spray over her bow in steam-like clouds. “Th-is ain’t nawthin’,” ejaculated a fisherman. “Th’ real dirt’ll come in “Wa-aâ€"a-tch aout!” bawled the skip- pe'r. Crash! Swis’hi An enormous cresting sea came thundering over the bows, and it swashed aft, sulbmerging the oilskinned figures which hung ’00 rail, gear, baitJb‘olai-ds, and pins. Jules was coughing and sputtering after it had passed. “What's th' matter?” asked Shorty, flickering the water out of his eyes. “My mout’ was open ” “Wa-a-a-tch aout!” Men turned apâ€" prehensively and tightened their grip when they glanced at the curling wall of water lifting above the rail. Crash! All hands held their breath; the wa- ter roared in their ears; it plucked at their bodies and caused the arms to crack with the strain of resisting the pull; then it sluiced away, and the skipper roared in a voice which sounded above the shriek of the Wind and the hissing crashes of the rapidly rising and cresting sea! “Take in th' malin‘s’ll” Detaching themselves from the gear to which they were hanging, the gang staggered aft along the reeling, sea- washed decks and laid hold of the mainsheet while the skipper eased the wheel down. “Now ‘then! Heave her in!” shouted the mob as they snatched up all the slack in the flut- tering, srlatting sail. “Walk away withuhe_r_l” _ “Bring her aboard, th’ For’ard went the gang, and, duck- ing their heads to the spray, they slacked away the jib halli‘ardvs and manned the downihaul. “Now! drag her down!” The jib came reluctantly down the stay, and in a whirling, flap- ping bundle it slashed around, thump- ing the bowsprit with‘the heavy dhain- sheets. . rag!” The boom was sheete-d aboard as far as it would come with the sail full of wind, the crotch was shipped, and the boom tackles hooked in. “Lower away peak an’ throat!" cried the skipper. “Man yer gaft downhaul. Steady now!” Getting that mainsail iiiâ€"six hun- dred odd square yards of canvas with a seventy-foot boomâ€"ans‘ quite a job, even for twenty men. The wind was blowing so hard that it filled the sail like a balloon, and when lowered it trailed all over the lee quarter. The men, hanging on to the gafl’, jumped and stamped on the refractory canvas with their heavily booted feet, but they were absolutely unable to make an impression upon it. For the present the mainsail had “taken charge.” “Never mind her jest now,” said the skipper. “Hook on yer boom guys an’ belay that gait downhaul. Get th’ jib in an’ sing out when ye‘re ready t’ roll her pp!” rm: nt to :nt of the t visit t. “ ’Tis e lanes t low, t1] the will :- Burns, elc‘ ks joyful] Rafa] Ontario Museum 953 Bloor St. Wont. Near Avenue Board Largest permanent exhibition in Canada. Archaeology. Geology. Mineralogy, Pal- eontology, Zoology. Open daily, 10 an). o 6 ixm. Sunday. 2 to 5 p.m. Bloor, fielt ine. Dupont and Avenue Rd. cars. One Cause of Forest Fires. 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