gcls_WFP_437

"What big things hang on a smile and a cheery word no man can ever say."

"Once when I was cruising on the North Labrador coast I anchored one day
between two desolate islands some distance out in the Atlantic, a locality
which in those days was frequented by many fishing craft. My anchors were
scarcely down when a boat from a small Welsh brigantine came abroad, and asked
me to go at once and see a dying girl. She proved to be the only woman among
a host of men, and was servant in one of the tiny summer fishing huts, cooking
and mending for the men, and helping with the fish when required. I found her
in a rude bunk in a dark corner of the shack. She was almost eighteen, and
even by the dim light of my lantern and in contrast with the sordid surround-
ings, I could see that she was very pretty. A brief examination convinced me
that she was dying. The tender-hearted old captain, whose aid had been called
in as the only man with a doctor's box and therefore felt to be better quali-
fied to use it than others, was heart-broken. He had pronounced the case to
be typhoid, to be dangerous and contagious, and had wisely ordered the fisher-
men, who were handling food for human consumption, to leave him to deal with
the case alone. He told me at once that he had limited his attentions to feed-
ing her, and that though helpless for over a fortnight, and at times unconscious,
the patient had not once been washed or the bed changed. The result, even with
my experience, apalled me. But while there is life in a young patient there
is always hope, and we at once set to work on our Augean task. By the strangest
coincidence it was an inky dark night outside, with a low fog hanging over the
water, and the big trap boat, with a crew of some six men, among them the
skipper's sons, had been missing since morning. The skipper had stayed home
out of sympathy for his servant girl, and his mind was torn asunder by the
anxiety for the girl and his fear for his boys.

When night fell, the old captain and I were through with the hardest part of
our work. We had new bedding on the bed and the patient clean and sleeping
queitly. Still the boat and its precious complment did not come. Every few
minutes the skipper would go out and listen, and stare into the darkness.
The girl's heart suddenly failed, and about midight her spirit left this
world. The captain and I decided that the best thing to do was to burn every-
thing - and in order to avoid publicity to do it at once. So having laborious-
ly carried it all out onto the edge of the cliff, we set a light to the pile
and were rewarded with a bonfire which would have made many a Guy Fawkes
celebration. Quite unintentionally we were sending out great streams of light
into the darkness over the waters away down below us, and actually give the
longed for signal to the missing boat. Her crew worked their way in the got
to life and safety by means of the blazing and poor discarded "properties"
of the soul preceding us to our last port."

[a black and white image of several people walking around on long flat boats, one person is wearing a white uniform and is carrying a black travel case}

A HURRY CALLS COMES TO THE HOSPITAL
A NURSE AND A DOCTOR

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