n home we reported the need of a Mission vessel on the
coast, but the difficulty of her being where she was wanted at the
right time, over such an extended fishery ground, was very
considerable. We decided that only a steam hospital trawler would be
of any real value--unless a small cottage hospital could be started in
Seyde Fjord, to which the sick and injured could be taken.

It was now thought wise that I should take a holiday, and thus through
the kindness of my former chief, Sir Frederick Treves, then surgeon to
the King, whose life he had been the means of saving, I found myself
for a time his guest on the Scilly Islands. There we could divert our
minds from our different occupations, conjuring up visions of heroes
like Sir Cloudesley Shovel, who lost his life here, and of the scenes
of daring and of death that these beautiful isles out in the Atlantic
have witnessed. Nor did we need Charles Kingsley to paint for us again
the visit of Angus Lee and Salvation Yeo, for Sir Frederick, as his
book, "The Cradle of the Deep," shows, is a past-master in buccaneer
lore. Besides that we had with us his nephew, the famous novel writer,
A.E.W. Mason.

Treves, with his usual insatiable energy, had organized a grand
regatta to be held at St. Mary's, at which the Governor of the island,
the Duke of Wellington, and a host of visiting big-wigs were to be
present. One event advertised as a special attraction was a
life-saving exhibition to be given by local experts from the judges'
stage opposite the grand stand on the pier. This, Mason and I, being
little more than ornaments in the other events, decided to try and
improve upon. Dressed as a somewhat antiquated lady, just at the
psychological moment Mason fell off the pier head with a loud
scream--when, disguised as an aged clergyman, wildly gesticulating,
and cramming my large beaver hat hard down on my head, I dived in to
rescue him. A real scene ensued. We were dragged out with such energy
that the lady lost her skirt, and on reaching the pier fled for the
boat-house clad only in a bonnet and bodice over a bathing-suit.
Although the local press wrote up the affair as genuine, the secret
somehow leaked out, and we had to make our bow at the prize
distribution the following evening.

Only parts of the winter seasons could be devoted to raising money.
The general Mission budget had to be taken care of as well as the
special funds; besides which one had to superintend the North