men were high up and
in the middle of the deck they saw and knew nothing and went on playing.
But something else impressed me far more deeply; indeed, I think that I
can never forget it. Quite close to me was standing the man's wife
holding a baby, and as the man's face turned towards us in his
floundering she said calmly, "God, it's my George." And the little boy,
not understanding, repeated gleefully and senselessly, "It's dadda; it's
dadda."

I looked at the woman's face; her cup had been full before; she had
drunk her fill of grief; and this new horror, her husband struggling
like a mouse in the bitter cold water, could not add a pang to her
torture. All that I have described happened, of course, in a few
seconds; the man had barely gone under before one of the ship's
butchers, in his white clothes, was in after him. Let no one belittle
the race of butchers. The life-taker knew how to save life, and Master
Butcher had his man in a moment, turned him on his back, and began to
swim ashore; indeed, there was no fear of the man's drowning, for there
were half a dozen men in the water within half a minute of the accident.
The man was brought ashore, and his wife helped to rub him down; only to
go through her parting again on the deck of a tender a few minutes
afterwards. But there was a cheerier note in the cheering that broke out
when the ship again began to move, and when the band struck up "God Save
the Queen" everyone who had a croak in him or her joined with a will.
The shape of the ship grew dim in the mist, but still the sea-birds
cried and hovered like winged prayers and wishes between her and the
shore.

* * * * *

In the Thames and at Southampton similar scenes were enacted almost
daily. Here is an account of a "Specimen Day" at Southampton--one of the
busiest that had been known there since the beginning of the war, for
Lord Roberts's grand army was being hurried out to repair the fortunes
shattered at Magersfontein, Stormberg, and Colenso.

All day long crowded troop-trains had been steaming into the station,
where small pilot engines waited to receive them and drag them, groaning
and squealing, round the curves and across the points that lead to the
docks. The first train arrived at about nine, and the last at two.
Between those hours there was a constant succession of trains. Three
steamers were waiting to receive the troops; the Peninsular and Oriental
liner _Assaye_, th