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THE “FLY’S” LAST TRIP;

OR, A PERILOUS CHRISTMAS ADVENTURE AT SEA.

WE left the port of Hull on Saturday, December 15th, 1877, in the good smack Fly, with a fair wind and tide, bound for the Dogger Bank fishing ground. All went on well until we arrived on the fishing ground. Having had our net down all night, we hauled it up, and the first thing that met our sight was the body of a drowned seaman. Sailors and fishermen being generally very superstitious, our deck hand prophesied that we should have no luck, and it turned out so in the end.

The next time we hauled our net we found that it was fast to the wreck of a vessel ; we managed to get it clear, however, with the loss of our beam. All went on smoothly for awhile; we had some very good hauls of fish, and were rejoicing in hope of having our Christmas dinner at home with our friends. But luck had not returned to us yet. We made our final baul on Saturday, December 22nd, and a good haul it was, for our net was as full as it could hold. We packed the fish and stowed away the net ready to sail for home in the morning. We made sail as soon as day broke, with a good breeze from the N.E., and with hearts as light as feathers. But our troubles were not over yet. The wind hauled round to the N.N.W., and blew a perfect hurricane, accompanied with snow and hail, which caused us to shorten sail and heave the smack to.

This was on Monday. It continued to blow all the next day until evening, when it blew so fiercely that it forced the smack over on her beam ends, so that she had not power to right herself. The sea at the time being almost as smooth as a mill-pond, with the force of the snow and hail beating upon it, caused the wind to have a great hold upon the smack. We held on in this manner until Tuesday evening (Christmas-day), when we were obliged to cut away the mast so that she could right herselfi Towards the evening of Wednesday the sea began to rise, which caused the vessel to labour greatly; having no mast to steady her, we were greatly alarmed for our safety, and expected she would capsize every moment. Our fears were soon realised; the vessel got. on the top of a huge wave, the wind caught her on her broadside, and capsized her like a cockle-shell.

Oh the horror of that moment was something fearful! Four of us were cast into the sea without a moment’s warning; but the poor boy who acted as cook, who was down in the cabin trying to make some coffee, had not time to get on deck when she was going over; so the poor fellow got drowned in the cabin. We never saw

THE "FLY'S" LAST TRIP.

him again. The rest of us managed, by God's providence, to get on the smack's bottom, and hold on by her keel. Thursday was passed in this manner. We had nothing on but our trousers and shirts ; my trousers held on very well, but the poor shirt was soon blown away, leaving nothing but the collar buttoned round my neck. The cold was fearfully intense; our hands soon became numbed ; then we had to hold on by our elbows and put our fingers in our mouths, one hand at a time, the sea washing over us all the while. Thursday passed—no sign of any help; Friday morning broke upon us--still no assistance at hand. We were beginning to give way to despair; our limbs were getting useless; we should have had to leave go our hold and find a watery grave; when, by God's providence, we saw a large vessel steering down upon us. She proved to be the French steamer Roquell, Captain Perez; she speedily came near enough to us to lower a boat and pick us up.

We were soon on the steamer, where we were treated with the utmost possible kindness by the captain and his crew. Some of the men lent us a few dry clothes to put on, which were very acceptable. We soon recovered the use of our limbs under their kind treatment; they seemed as if they could not do enough for

If they had not taken us off the wreck when they did, we should most certainly have found a watery grave.

We landed in Hull on Saturday morning, forlorn and destitute; but we could not help but give thanks to Almighty God for His mercy and lovingkindness to us in sparing our unworthy lives. The kindness of Captain Perez and his crew will never be forgotten by any of us to the latest day we live; we are at a loss to thank him and his people sufficiently for their kindness to us. We soon arrived among our friends, by whom we were welcomed as people from the dead. I am sure it had been a close shave with

The
poor

boy who was drowned was an orphan; he was greatly lamented by us, and all his old shipmates with whom he had previously sailed.

In conclusion, I must say that in all my experience of sea life (extending over a period of sixteen years), I never had such a narrow escape from death, or met with such kindness from strangers.

J. W. R., Quorndon.

us.

us all.

The foregoing narrative is by a Leicestershire working-man, who has written it at the request of the publisher of this little periodical. It is intended to publish it in a separate form for the benefit of the writer, who has suffered much in bodily health through this perilous exposure at sea, and consequent inability to follow regular employment since. Twelve copies, printed in small book form, will be sont to any address on receipt of nine stamps, by WINKS & Son, Publishers, Leicester.

"I GO A FISHING.”—THE GREAT SMITH FAMILY.

“I GO A-FISHING."

“ Now it seems to me that the first thing is to set ourselves to do it. 'Tis just like everything else, it wants doin'. It wont do to be always talkin' about it, an' desirin' it, and prayin' that we may be useful. We must get up an' do it. Simon said, 'I go a-fishin'.' An' he might have talked about it, an' prayed about it, all his life; he never would have caught anything till he went. We keep sayin', Dear Brethren, let us go a-fishin', or, You know we really must go a-fishin'. We talk of how very right and proper it is, an’ how we decide to do it, an’ we go prayin' that we may be stirred up to go a-fishin'.

“But Simon gets out his bait-box, an' his cross-lines, an' he shoulders his oars, an' he shoves off the boat, an' settlin' down he calls out to the rest of 'em, 'I go a-fishin'.' Then the rest, who perhaps had been talkin' about it, shoved off their boats too, an' said, "We also go with thee.' An' that's the way in fishin' for souls. You must set about it. Why, we stand in on the shore, loungin' about the quay, with our hands in our pockets, thinkin' that if the fish are to be caught, the Lord will send 'em to us. If we want 'em, we must go a-fishin'. An' then there's another thing I like about Simon, he didn't mind goin' alone.

" I'm afraid a good many of us would have seen Simon goin? out in his boat, an' never have said what the rest did. We would have kept our hands in our pockets, an' have said, “Quite right an’ proper; he's called to the work.' Or we should have said, “Oh, he's a leader; he ought to go.' Or we should have said, “There goes Simon again; what a gift he's got for it!' Pack o'stuff an'

A gift for it! Why, he had a hook an' line, an' bit o' bait; an' so he went out to do what he could. That was his gift for it, an' that was his callin' too. I want for every one of us to say, I go.”Daniel Quorm.

nonsense.

THE GREAT SMITH FAMILY.

DISGUISED the name may sometimes be, but it is the most common name throughout all European countries. It does sometimes affect a spelling above the common, and appears as Smyth, Smythe, or De Smythe. It also in England assumes a Latin guise (from ferrum), and becomes Ferrier and Ferrers, one of the noble names of England, associated also with a tragedy not noble either in its character or in its consequences.

In Germany we have the Schmidts ; in Italy the Fabri,

THE ITALICS OF SCRIPTURE.

Fabricia, or Fabroni; in France the Le Febres, or Lefevres, although most of the European languages adhere more closely to the old northern name; even in Latin we have volumes in our library by Johannes Smithus, and we have seen in Italy Giovanni Smitti.

The Spaniard's version of John Smith is Joan Smithus ; the Dutchman adopts it as Hans Schmidt; the French soften it into Jean Smeets; the Russian roughens it into Jouloff Smittowski. John Smith goes into the tea trade with China, and then he becomes Jahon Shmmit. Among the Icelanders he is Jahne Smithson; among the Tuscaroras he is Tom QuSmittia ; in Poland, Ivan Schmittiaveiski; among the Welsh we are told they talk of Jhon Schmidd; in Mexico he is written down as Joutli F Smitri ; among the classical ruins of Greece he becomes Ion Sinihton ; in Turkey he is almost lost sight of as Yeo Seef. Philology also assures us that those ancient names of the Kings of Syria, Hadad and Benhadad, are the equivalent of our Smith and Smithson, just as the term pontiff or pontifex points back to the time when the chief man was he who built bridges or constructed roads.

So, at last, these and the like terms we have quoted come to be considered the proudest designations of the royal house, and when the usurper, the founder of another family, seized the throne, he assumed the same honoured titles associated with distinguished benefits conferred on the country.

THE ITALICS OF SCRIPTURE. The italic words of our English Bibles are not translations of words in the original, but were added by the translators to fill out what they considered the sense or the meaning of the passage. In most cases they were right, but in a few they blundered, weakening the force or perverting the meaning by what they added. A good illustration is in Psalms xvi.—“The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God.” Leave out the italic words, and how much stronger the statement—The fool bath said in his heart, No God; i.e., I wish there were none! I don't want any. I will try to believe there is none. It is a heart utterance, the expression of desire rather than conviction. We don't believe that even a fool gets beyond this. Atheism is a disease of the head rather than of the heart.

Another notable instance, familiar to all biblical scholars, is in John x. 10. Our version reads, “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly." No doubt many

have wondered how the Saviour's followers could have life

EMIGRANT LIFE OF THE OLD TIME.

gives all

more abundantly, or a great deal more than life. Now leave out the italic word it, and we read-1 an come that they might have life, and that they might have more abundantly, or more a great deal, i.e., life and all the blessings of life. In Christ we receive not merely pardon, deliverance from death, restoration to life, but all the riches of God's grace. Having given His Son, with Him He

ngs freely. Yes, not life alone, but a crown, a mansion, an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled. He who violates human law is at most pardoned. And how grateful is he to the executive who restores him from the condemned cell to life. It may be a life of toil, of poverty, of suffering, of contempt; yet it is regarded as the greatest boon that man can bestow upon his fellow-man. But God gives divinely. He adds to life a sanctified heart and a hope that is full of glory.

EMIGRANT LIFE OF THE OLD TIME. EMIGRATION in these days of steamboats and railroads is comparatively a trifling matter. But a hundred years ago, when ox-teams and saddle-horses were the only means of conveyance, it was quite a serious matter. Then, when a party of emigrants started from a New England village for interior New York or the Ohio River, they assembled on the church green, where religious services were held, and the venerable pastor commended them to the special protection of Almighty God.

An old gentleman who when but four years old was carried by his father from Vermont to the interior of New York, tells some interesting incidents of pioneer life in 1790. A cart, two wagons, two yokes of oxen, four horses, a few sheep, hogs, and cattle, and a little household stuff, formed their worldly wealth. They rode in wagons until the roads became so bad as to force them to journey on horseback.

The wagons were left behind until the roads settled. The father road one horse, the little boy was placed on a pillow tied behind the saddle, with a strap under his arms buckled around his father's waist. The little girl sat on the pommel, supported by her father's arm; a larger girl rode on the horse which carried the bed and bedding; a yearling colt lagged after, and the rest of the party drove the live stock.

Some of the privations were ludicrous. The family had arrived in the country before sheep-shearing, and the boy needed clothes. Not until next spring could cloth be made. His mother cut up an old cloak, and from it made a coat with pockets. His grandfather

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