Have you ever heard of an iceberg? Well, they are great mountains of floating ice which come down from Greenland, Spitzbergen, and other polar lands. Sometimes they appear right in a ship’s course, and are not always seen by the naked eye. They float along for miles and miles under water, making it rather uncertain how close a ship is getting to them. Many icebergs, however, tower high above the water, and an account has been given of one seen a few years ago which was two and one-half miles long, two and one-fifth miles wide, and one hundred and fifty-three feet high. It is said that many million tons of ice were in that iceberg. When such an obstacle is seen there is cause for alarm, and well may the men on the lookout call, “Danger ahead!” When the weather was favorable we sat on deck every day; and while sitting there we noticed a sailor go to the railing of the steamer with a canvas pail. We wondered what he intended doing, and so watched. He first fastened a long rope to the pail, then threw it overboard, and after it had floated about in the water a while he drew it toward him, lifting the pail over the railing brimful of water and immediately after thrusting a thermometer into it. We knew by that time that the sailor was testing the temperature of the water. He examined very closely how many degrees cold it was, then reported the result to the captain. When the water is many degrees colder than common it is quite possible that an iceberg is not far distant, so the ship’s course is changed and possibly a wreck avoided. There seems to be no end of reasons why a man should be stationed to watch for danger day and night. If a lookout man could tell us the number of times he was the means of saving people from perishing by being the first to see the signal of distress, no doubt we should be surprised. Ships meet with accidents of different kinds. Sometimes we read of them burning up, and before help can reach them all on board are lost. How sad that seems. Think of the heartache of friends at home when the time for their return is at hand and they do not come. The sailor’s life is a hard one, and yet it is said he is not happy when off duty long at a time. Have you ever heard him called the “jolly sailor boy”? I have wondered why people speak of them as being jolly. To me they are a sad-faced set of men, and out at sea I never saw one of them smile; sometimes I wondered whether they knew how to. Perhaps all their smiling is engaged in when on land, where they get beer and strong drink.