Pretty soon came one that everybody looked at doubtfully. She sported a new mainmast and a new fore-gaff. "Who's this old hooker with her new spars? Looks like a vessel just home from salt fishing, don't she? Lord, but she needs painting." Nobody seemed to know who she was, and as she got nearer there was a straining of eyes for her name forward. "The H-A-R-B-I--oh, the Harbinger. Must be old Marks and the old craft he bought down East last fall. This the old man, of course--the Harbinger. How long's she been down here? Came down ahead of the fleet? Well, she ought to--by the looks of her she needs a good early start to get anywhere. They ought to be glad to get in. I mind that September breeze twenty year ago that the old man said blew all the water off Quero and drove him ashore on Sable Island. He says he ain't taking any more line storms in his. No, nor anybody else in the old square-enders he gen'rally sails in. I'll bet he's glad to change winter trawling for summer seining. I'll bet he put in a few wakeful nights on the Banks in his time--mind the time he parted his cable and came bumping over Sable Island No'the-east Bar? Found the only channel there was, I callate. 'Special little angels was looking out for me,' he says, when he got home. 'Yes,' says Wesley Marrs--he was telling it to Wesley--'yes,' says Wesley, 'but I'll bet keepin' the lead goin' had a hell of a lot to do with it, too.'" So they came rolling in by the end of the jetty until they could make one last tack of it. Like tumbling dolphins they were--seiners all, with a single boat towing astern and a single dory, or sometimes two dories, lashed in the waist, all gear stowed away, under four lower sails mostly--jumbo, jib, fore and main, though now and then was one with a mainsail in stops and a trysail laced to the gaff, and all laying down to it until their rails were washing under and the sea hissed over the bows. Anybody would have to admire them as they came scooting past. When they thought they were close enough to the Breakwater--and some went pretty close--up or down would go the wheel, according to which end of the jetty they came in by, around they would go, and across the flats and down on the fleet they would come shooting. They breasted into the hollows like any sea-bird and lifted with every heave to shake the water from bilge to quarter. They came across with never a let-up, shaving everything along the way until a good berth was picked out. Then they let go sails, dropped anchor and were ready for a rest. Nobody got by our fellows without a word. And we weren't the only crew of critics. Bungling seamanship would get a slashing here, but there was none of that. It was all good, but there are degrees of goodness, of course. First-class seamanship being a matter of course, only a wonderful exhibition won approval from everybody. And crews coming in, knowing what was ahead of them, made no mistakes in that harbor.