Run Down

your clothes?" was the next thing that occurred to me.

"Yes," said the voice, "and such a lovely diamond star!"

Then came a torrent of sobbing, and, between sobs, "Oh! how could I be so horrid as to think of such a thing now? There are only sixty picked up, they say. And all those other poor people lost! Isn't it awful to think about?"

"Very probably," I said. "But we've saved our own skins, and I don't think we've anything to be ashamed of. It wasn't my fault that someone gathered me up, though."

Then a man came in and stared at me thoughtfully--a fisherman, in clumsy sea boots and brown-patched oilskin.

"Closish squeak you've had, mister," said he, slowly. "We just passed that other boat what run you down. She'd about seven foot of her how gone, and looked pretty sick, I tell you. We hailed her to know if she wanted anything; but she said, 'No.' Got her steering gear fixed up again, and was going to put into Portsmouth. She's a Welsh collier bound there. Rum go this has b