A humorous paper is more welcome than a tract on the evils of drink. When the weather is favourable the men seek a little relaxation in fishing, but here again they have to suffer considerable denial, as the tackle invariably becomes inextricably entangled with the rocks, so that the losses exceed the prizes. In the United States the greater number of the keepers maintain a garden well stocked with vegetables and flowers. The tending of these charges carries the minds of the men from their work completely, and for the opportunity to practise this hobby they are indebted to the kindness of the Government, which supplies seeds free of charge. It is when the gale is raging tumultuously that the men in the tower are compelled to realize their position. The waves pound the rock and building so ceaselessly and relentlessly that the latter trembles and shakes like a leaf. At times the din is so deafening that the men cannot converse; they are compelled to communicate with each other by signs. The waves pick up stones and hurl them with terrific force against the lantern. Occasionally the elements triumph in their assault, and the missiles shatter the glass. To step out on the gallery in the teeth of a blizzard to clear the snow away demands no little courage. As the man emerges upon the narrow platform, he is engulfed in the swirling flakes, and often is pinned against the masonry so tightly by the wind that he cannot move a limb; at other times he is swept almost off his feet. While engaged in his freezing task, he also runs the risk of being drenched by a rising comber. [Illustration: _By permission of the “Syren and Shipping.”_ COMBINED KITCHEN AND LIVING-ROOM IN THE LIGHTHOUSE.] The men on the lonely, exposed Tillamook Rock, off the Oregon coast, have had more than one occasion to respect the storm-fiend. One night, while a fearful gale was raging, a huge mass of rock was torn away from the islet, snatched by the waves, and thrown high into the air. It fell with terrific force upon the dome of the lantern, splintering the roof and smashing the light, so that no welcome rays could be thrown from the tower again that night. The keepers at once set to work with the fog-signal, and during the hours of darkness worked like slaves, blaring out a warning by sound which they were unable to give visually.