A breath of relief—followed by a sinking feeling of dismay as we
are thrown in the other direction.
A wave, larger than most, meets us head on, and the poor boat shud-
ders throughout its whole length. A scream from the lower deck.
Bells ringing. A sudden silence, filled only with the noise of wind
and wave. The engines have stopped. After an eternity of plunging
and wallowing, the engines start, only to be stopped again when the
waves become too large to meet with such momentum. Will we ever
reach the open water ahead?
At last.
A great stillness descends, a sense of peace envelops us sweetly. A
fresh wind in our faces. On either side the hills fall away, and across
the bay, which gleams like rippled satin in the starlight, shine the
lights of home!
Note to the Editor:
This article has been brung up right and has no objection to waste
paper baskets, scissors, or correct spelling being placed in its midst.
Use your own judgment dear Miss Editor but please save the original
(with the original spelling, etc.) for my grandchildren.

Yours in great fear of brain feaver,

MADGE FARMER.

THE SEAGULL

If I could choose what I would be,
I'd be a seagull, light and free,
And soar on high; and for my rest
At evening drop to earth’s warm breast.
Life never meant that I should stay
All day on earth like common clay.

M. A. W.

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