which to contribute to the knowledge of that seemingly ever evasive
pathway leading to that which to me is the supreme motive power of human
life--faith in the divine Redeemer and Master. The best helps to reach
the haven we are in search of, over the unblazed trails of Labrador, are
ever the tracks of those who have found the way before us. Just such to
me is this simple and delightful story of Mr. Ober's. It has my most
hearty prayers for its unprecedented circulation.

WILFRED T. GRENFELL.




[Illustration]


OLD SALTS


The lure of the sea prevailed, and at nineteen I shipped for a
four-months' fishing trip on the Newfoundland Banks. These banks are not
the kind that slope toward some gentle stream where the weary fisherman
can rest between bites, protected from the sun by the shade of an
overhanging tree; they are thirty to forty fathoms beneath the surface
of the Atlantic Ocean, a thousand miles out from the Massachusetts
coast.

The life that had long appealed to my imagination now came in with a
shock and a realism that was in part a disillusionment and in part an
intense satisfaction of some of my primal instincts and cravings. Old