The fountain, which is of polished Aberdeen granite, {72} was opened last November in proper style, a platform being erected, and the chair being taken by the Secretary to the "Metropolitan Drinking Fountains Association," supported by several ladies and gentlemen. Mr. Lee made an appropriate speech, and called attention to the gift, and pointed to the inscription; and it was quite an emphatic little observance for the inmates who had gathered in the hall on the occasion. And well it might be, for the fountain bears this modest inscription:—"The gift of William McNeil, Seaman, in appreciation of the great benefits he has derived on the various occasions during which he has made the Institution his Home, for upwards of 25 years." I think very little more need be said for the Sailors' Home than is indicated by this plain, earnest testimony to its worth. Yet it is necessary to say one more word. This Sailors' Home is in a way self-supporting, and at present seeks only the kindly interest of the public in case it should ever need another response to an appeal for extending its sphere of usefulness. Not a farthing of profit is permitted to any individual engaged in it, and even fees to servants are prohibited, though the crimps and touts outside endeavour to bribe them sometimes, to induce sailors to go to the common lodging-houses, where land-rats seek their prey. All the profits, if there are any at all, are placed to a reserve fund for repairs, improvements, or extensions. At any rate, no public appeals are being made just now. But there is another institution next door—another branch of the stem which has grown so sturdily from the seed planted by the good captain—the Destitute Sailors' Asylum. That is a place full of interest, though there is nothing to see there. Nothing but a clean yard, with {73} means for washing and cleansing, and a purifying oven for removing possible infection from clothes, and a great bare room, just comfortably warmed in winter, and hung with rows of hammocks, like the 'tween-decks of a ship. That is all; but in those hammocks, sometimes, poor starved and destitute sailors go to sleep, after they have been fed with soup and warmed and comforted; and in the morning, when they turn out, they are fed again with cocoa and bread, and if they are naked they are clothed. There are not very many applicants, for, strange as it may appear, since sailors' homes have come in fashion there are but few destitute seamen; but there need be no unrelieved destitute sailors at all in London, for anybody can send such a one to the Asylum in Well Street, London Docks, and he will be admitted. Here then, is an institution that may claim support. {74} CASTING BREAD UPON THE WATERS.