without making
special reference to the steam-tug, without which, and the courage as
well as knowledge of her master, mate, and crew (renewed cheers), the
lifeboat could not overtake a tenth part of the noble work which she
annually accomplished. He concluded by praying that a kind Providence
would continue to watch over and bless the Ramsgate lifeboat and her
crew.

We need scarcely add that this toast was drunk with enthusiastic
applause, and that it was followed up by the amateur minstrels with
admirable effect.

Many songs were sung, and many toasts were proposed that night, and warm
was the expression of feeling towards the men who were ever so ready to
imperil their lives in the hope of saving those of their
fellow-creatures, and who had already, oftentimes, given such ample
proof that they were thoroughly able to do, as well as to dare, almost
anything. Several singers with good, and one or two with splendid,
voices, gave a variety of songs which greatly enhanced the brilliancy of
the evening, and were highly appreciated in the gallery; and a few bad
singers with miserable voices (who volunteered their songs) did really
good service by impressing upon the audience very forcibly the immense
differences between good and bad music, and thus kindly acted as shadows
to the vocal lights of the evening--as useful touches of discord in the
general harmony which by contrast rendered the latter all the sweeter.

But of all the solos sung that night none afforded such delight as a
national melody sung by our friend Jerry MacGowl, in a voice that rang
out like the voices of three first-class bo's'ns rolled into one. That
worthy son of the Emerald Isle, and Dick Moy, and Jack Shales, happened
to be enjoying their month on shore when the supper to the lifeboat-men
was planned, and they were all there in virtue of their having been
instrumental in saving life on more than one occasion during their
residence in Ramsgate. Jerry's song was, as we have said, highly
appreciated, but the applause with which it was greeted was as nothing
compared with the shouts and cheers that shook the roof of Saint James's
Hall, when, on being asked to repeat it, Jerry modestly said that he
"would prefer to give them a duet--perhaps it was a trayo--av his mates
Jack Shales and Dick Moy would only strike in wid bass and tenor."

The men of the floating light then sang "The Minute-Gun at Sea"
magnificently, each taking the part that suited h