in its turn was wrecked on an
uncharted shoal with Dr. West on board, and her insurance used to help
to procure Northern Messenger number three--which is the beautiful
boat which now serves Harrington, our most westerly hospital. We are
largely indebted for her to Mr. William Bowditch, of Milton,
Massachusetts.

Dr. Hare, our first doctor at that station, never wrote his own
experiences, but one of the Yale volunteers who worked under him wrote
a story founded on fact, from which the following incident is
suggestive.

Once, running home before a wind in the Gulf, the doctor suddenly
missed his little son Pat, and looking round saw him struggling in the
water, already many yards astern. Dr. Hare, who was at the tiller at
the time, instantly jumped over after him. The child was finally
disappearing when he reached him at last and held his head above
water. Meanwhile the engineer, who had been below, jumped on deck to
find the sails flapping in the wind and the boat head to sea. With the
intuitive quickness of our people in matters pertaining to the sea, he
took in the situation in a second, and though entirely alone
manoeuvred the boat so cleverly as to pick them both up before they
perished in these frigid waters. Pat's young life was saved, only to
be given a short few years later in France for the same fight for the
kingdom of righteousness which his home life had made his familiar
ideal.

The forty-five-foot, "hot-head" yawl Daryl, given us by the Dutch
Reformed friends in New York, was sold to the Hudson Bay Company. At
first she was naturally called the Flying Dutchman, and was most
useful; but here we have learned when a better instrument is available
that it is the truest economy to scrap-heap the old. We were to give
delivery of the boat in Baffin's Land. There were plenty of volunteers
for the task, for the tough jobs are the very ones which appeal to
real men. It would be well if the churches realized this fact and that
therein lies the real secret of Christianity. The impression that
being a Christian is a soft job inevitably brings our religion into
contempt. I had been in England that spring, and had been able to
arrange that the mail steamer bound for Montreal on which I took
passage should stop and drop me off Belle Isle if the crusaders who
were to take this launch on her long voyage North would stand out
across our pathway. Mr. Marconi personally took an interest in the
venture. The launch was to wa