ged in the arduous
work of daily supplying the London and other markets with fresh fish."

"And what port do they run for when a storm comes on?" asked Ruth.

"What port, Miss? why, they don't run for no port at all, cos why?
there's no port near enough to run for."

"Do you mean to say, that they remain at sea during all the storms--even
the worst?"

"That's just what we does, Miss. Blow high, blow low, it's all the
same; we must weather it the best way we can. An' you should see how it
blows in winter! That's the time we catches it wust. It's so cold too!
I've not bin out in winter yet myself, but father says it's cold enough
to freeze the nose off your face, an' it blows 'ard enough a'most to
blow you inside out. You wouldn't like to face that sort o' thing--
would you, Miss?"

With a light laugh Ruth admitted that she disliked the idea of such
North Sea experiences.

"Oh! you've no idea, Miss, how it do blow sometimes," continued Billy,
who was a naturally communicative boy, and felt that he had got hold of
a sympathetic ear. "Have you ever heard of the gale that blew so 'ard
that they had to station two men an' a boy to hold on to the captain's
hair for fear it should be blowed right off his 'ead?"

"Yes," answered Ruth, with a silvery laugh. "I've heard of that gale."

"Have you, Miss?" said Billy with a slightly surprised look. "That's
queer, now. I thought nobody know'd o' that gale 'cept us o' the North
Sea, an', p'raps, some o' the people o' Yarmouth an' Gorleston."

"I rather think that I must have read of it somewhere," said Ruth.
Billy glanced reproachfully at the surrounding books, under the
impression that it must have been one of these which had taken the wind
out of his sails.

"Well, Miss," he continued, "I don't mean for to say I ever was in a
gale that obliged us to be careful of the skipper's hair, but I do say
that father's seed somethink like it, for many a time our smack has bin
blowed over on her beam-ends--that means laid a'most flat, Miss, with
'er sails on the sea. One night father's smack was sailin' along
close-hauled when a heavy sea struck 'er abaft the channels, and filled
the bag o' the mains'l. She was just risin' to clear herself when
another sea follared, filled the mains'l again, an' sent 'er on 'er
beam-ends. The sea was makin' a clean breach over 'er from stem to
stern, an' cleared the deck o' the boat an' gear an' everythink. Down
went all hands below an'