eck, they rushed headlong on to one of
the hidden rocks with which the coast abounded. The boat turned over
and disappeared, leaving its occupants struggling in the water.

There were but few bystanders, and of these no one did more than talk
and gesticulate and ask wildly what was to be done.

The same impulse that had prompted Willie to rescue a drowning dog
now caused him to risk his life in order to save that of the boy who
had always shown so unfriendly a disposition toward him.

Pulling off his coat, he threw it and his hat down on the shore; and
giving Bruno an injunction to guard them, he plunged bravely into the
tempestuous waves. He could swim well, and succeeded with great
difficulty in reaching the spot where Walter had but a moment ago
disappeared, and then began the terrible struggle for life.

Bruno sat by his master's clothes and gazed out over the sea with eyes
which looked almost human in their intelligent anxiety. Presently he
grew restless, and in another moment the faithful creature dashed into
the waves, and made resolutely for the spot where his master was
laboriously engaged in trying to convey one of the drowning lads to
shore.

By the powerful aid of the noble dog Walter and Willie were saved; and
a boat having now put off, Walter's friend was picked up after a
while. What a cheer rent the air when the dog and the two lads gained
the shore I cannot attempt to describe. Willie was never called a
milksop any more, and Bruno was more loved and prized than ever.

[Decoration]

CHARLEY.

I made the acquaintance of my little friend Charley under very unusual
and startling circumstances. I saw a lad about fifteen years of age
clinging desperately for very life to the topmast of a sunken ship. I
will tell you how it happened.

I must go back nearly twenty years. Indeed, I ought to explain that
Charley was a little friend of mine a long time ago; now he's a
grown-up man. Well, twenty years ago I was not very old myself, but my
sister, who is some years older than I am, was already married, and
her husband was very fond of yachting. They lived during a great part
of the year in the Isle of Wight, and there I often used to go to stay
with them.

The "Swallow"--that was the name of my brother-in-law's yacht--was a
beautiful boat, and many happy hours have I passed on board her as she
skimmed merrily over the sparkling water. I delighted to sit on deck,
watching the fishing-boats as the