rs something of his skill and his
power to command. He did not need the pay; he needed the occupation and
the being in touch with the things about him. For the last fifteen or
more years he had nursed a sorrow and lived the life almost of a
recluse. It was time he threw it off.

During the first week of service, with his crew about him, he explained
to them in minute detail their several duties. Each day in the week
would have its special work: Monday would be beach drill, practising
with the firing gun and line and the safety car. Tuesday was boat
drill; running the boat on its wagon to the edge of the sea, unloading
it, and pushing it into the surf, each man in his place, oars poised,
the others springing in and taking their seats beside their mates. On
Wednesdays flag drills; practising with the international code of
signals, so as to communicate with stranded vessels. Thursdays, beach
apparatus again. Friday, resuscitation of drowning men. Saturday,
scrub-day; every man except himself and the cook (each man was cook in
turn for a week) on his knees with bucket and brush, and every floor,
chair, table, and window scoured clean. Sunday, a day of rest, except
for the beach patrol, which at night never ceased, and which by day
only ceased when the sky was clear of snow and fog.

This night patrol would be divided into watches of four hours each at
eight, twelve, and four. Two of the crew were to make the tramp of the
beach, separating opposite the Station, one going south two and a half
miles to meet the surfman from the next Station, and the other going
north to the inlet; exchanging their brass checks each with the other,
as a record of their faithfulness.

In addition to these brass checks each patrol would carry three Coston
signal cartridges in a water-proof box, and a holder into which they
were fitted, the handle having an igniter working on a spring to
explode the cartridge, which burned a red light. These
will-o'-the-wisps, flashed suddenly from out a desolate coast, have
sent a thrill of hope through the heart of many a man clinging to
frozen rigging or lashed to some piece of wreckage that the hungry
surf, lying in wait, would pounce upon and chew to shreds.

The men listened gravely to the captain's words and took up their
duties. Most of them knew them before, and no minute explanations were
necessary. Skilled men understand the value of discipline and prefer it
to any milder form of government. Archie