"I had a brother on her," said this man. "She was hove down and her whole crew washed over--hove flat down and the whole crew of eight men in the water at once. Six of 'em got back--first one and then another, the first of those back aboard heavin' lines to the others still overboard. Two men never came back, though--pretty rough it was." On his own vessel, the _Thunderbolt_, it was pretty rough sailing, and in the middle of it there was one of the crew--he'd never been off-shore fishing in his life before this--he came on deck with a life-preserver around him. "Seas to our masthead," said the man off the _Thunderbolt_, "and he comes on deck with a life-preserver. He must 'a' thought he was bein' wrecked in some swimmin'-pool in some Turkish bath 'stead of old South Shoal in a gale. If ever he'd got two feet from the deck of that vessel, he'd lasted 'bout two seconds--him and his life-preserver!" Tony, the barber, was so interested in the man with the life-preserver that he gave me a fine cut on my right cheek. John and the skipper and Steve and the cook were buried that same day in Gloucester, and we all went to the funeral; and coming away from the funeral: "You goin' back fishin'?" said Shorty to me. "No more fishin' for me," I said. And Shorty and Oliver, they both said never again for them, either. That was day before yesterday. This morning the master of the _Antoinette_ came along with Shorty and Oliver and asked me didn't I want to make just one more swordfishing trip while the season was on. I looked at Shorty. He was wearing a smile and had a rose on his coat some girl had given him. "I thought you said you were through fishing, Shorty?" "So I did," said Shorty, "but a man says a lot o' things in his careless hours. I've had a couple o' good nights' sleep since." "And you, Oliver?" I said. "Me? Well, there's a wife and an old mother up to my house, and I never read anywhere the gover'ment was paying out money to the families of fishermen who didn't want to fish any more, did you?" said Oliver. So I said all right I'd go along, too. "What's the use--we're sea-birds," I said. "It's our home and our living--where else should we go but to sea, at the last? But have you seen Big Bill?" Yes, Shorty had seen Big Bill. He had hopes to get a job at the car-barn. "He's had two warnings, he says," said Shorty, "and not to wait for a third would be foolish. He's up on Main Street right now with people buying drinks for him, while he tells 'em how he managed to save himself off the _Henriette_." Well, Big Bill's all right; but he's alive to-day because a better man--the same being John--shoved him into a dory when he might have gone himself instead. And Big Bill thinks of John only as an irresponsible young fellow who liked to play jokes with blueberry dumplings.