“Let me see now.” Martin was a dextrous trawler, who never had to slack his work because of any little conversational strain. He kept the air full of hooks and line even while he figured it all out. “We were forty-four fifty-six north and fifty-one ten west at noon, the Skipper said. We sailed for an hour after that--east half no’the. That ought to put us about a hundred and fifty mile from the nearest point o’ land-- Newf’undland that’ll be. But how’s the rowin’? A bit heavy, isn’t it? Tide and sea together’s a hard thing to buck out here, boy. You’d be surprised how they carry you out the way at times. That’s the divil when the fog or the snow comes and you drift. Or maybe the vessel isn’t anchored--flyin’ sets maybe same as now--and away _she_ goes. And now, Eddie-lad, try and see how you make out shootin’ a trawl, and let me tend to the rowin’. Careful, now, comin’ for’ard--you’re not in a bathin’-suit in Gloucester Harbor with smooth water and no more than a hundred yards’ swim if you capsize the boat. That’s it--keep ’em whirlin’. My, but you’re doin’ fine--’tis born in people, the fishin’ ways. If you were only a bit more rugged, now, there wouldn’t be your better on the whole Grand Banks. But this life’ll soon put the strength in you, Eddie-boy.” “If it don’t kill me first,” laughed the young fellow. “Kill you? What talk is that? Kill you? Why, the way you’ll eat--not three, but four, and maybe five meals a day. And mug-ups? Every time you think of it, a mug-up--and when you forget, always plenty to put you in mind of it by their example. And _sleep_----” “When there’s any time to sleep.” “Time? Wait till it comes too rough to go out in the dory.” “Too rough?” The boy looked over the gunnel and grimaced. “Oh, it comes plenty rough at times. Have a care, or one of those little seas’ll wet you through.” “H’m-- I’m wet through already.” “Oh, no, not real wet through. When you get real wet out here-- But, never mind, wet or dry, we’ll be alike, anyway, and company for each other, however it goes. Your father, now, he was great company in a dory. Tell stories! And sing! What’s it he used to sing, now, on the old _Aleutian_, when we were hardly more than boys together? Oh, but your father had the voice, boy! And to hear him roll out-- “‘Let it come from the east, Let it come from the west’--