to a full stop in
consideration of their future.

Here, then, in Freekirk Head were three hundred fishermen with their
backs against the wall--mutely brave because it is bred in the
bone--quietly preparing for a final stand against their hereditary
enemies, hunger and poverty.

The low murmur of awestruck conversation suddenly stopped, for Squire
Hardy, with his fringe of white whiskers violently mussed, had risen
to speak.

"Mr. Bysshe has just about got the lobster in the pot," he declared,
"but I want to say one thing more. Things were bad enough up to a week
ago, but since the fire they have been a great deal worse. Mr. Nailor
and Mr. Thomas, who owned the fish stand that burned, have been
cleaned out. They gave employment to about twenty of you men.

"Those men are now without any work at all because the owners of the
other fish stands have all the trawlers and dorymen they need. Even if
they didn't have, there are hardly enough fish to feed all hands on
the island.

"More than that--and now I hope you won't mind what I am going to say,
for we've all been in the same boat one time or another--Mr. Boughton
can't be our last hope much longer. You and I and all of us have got
long-standing credit at his store for supplies we paid for later from
our fishing. The fire of the other night cost Mr. Boughton a lot, and,
as most of his money is represented in outstanding credit, he cannot
advance any more goods.

"Mr. Boughton is not here himself, for he told me he would never say
that word to people he has always trusted and lived with all his life.
But I am saying it for him because I think I ought to, and you can see
for yourselves how fair it is.

"Now, that's about all I've got to add to what Mr. Bysshe has said to
you. Yes, there's one thing more. Great Harbor and Seal Cove below us
here are as bad if not worse off than we are. We cannot look for help
in that direction, and I will be a lot thinner man than I am now
before I ever appeal to the government.

"We're not paupers, and we don't want city newspapers starting
subscription-lists for us. So, as Mr. Bysshe has said, the only thing
for us to do is to get our eyes out of the heavens and see what we can
do for ourselves."

The squire sat down, pulling at his whiskers and looking apprehensively
at the rector, of whose polished periods he stood in some awe.

The audience was silent now. The squire had brought home to these men
and women some bald, hard fa