CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL
OF
POPULAR
LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART.

'LIVES O' MEN.'

The stranger who sails for the first time up theFirth of Forth must be struck with the numerousvillages that stud its picturesque shores. Thesefor the most part are fishing-villages, inhabitedby a race of hardy men, who at times run fearfulrisks at sea. Though the morning may looksettled, and the prospects of a good 'take' inducethe boats to venture forth far out to sea, the afternoonmay prove so boisterous that all hands areglad to beat a retreat, and leaving lines or nets tolook after themselves, make for some harbour ofrefuge. Sometimes, as was prominently the caselast year, the weather may come on so suddenlyviolent that the best appointed boats, handled byexperienced men, run dreadful risks, and reach thesheltering haven only by a hair's-breadth. At timesno skill can avail, and wives and mothers—andas we had occasion to shew in a recent article onthe Hebrides, sweethearts—are left lamenting. Itis unfortunate that many of the harbours on theFirth of Forth are dry or nearly so at low-water,so that a boat at sea must wait outside before thecrew can venture in; for thus are doubtless lostmany boats and their hapless crews that otherwisemight 'make the run' and be out of danger.Unable to make harbour from want of water, thereis no alternative but to lie off under close-reefedsail till the tide makes, or be dashed to splinterson a lee-shore. This will assist the reader ofthe following story in understanding the anxietyfelt by those on shore for the boats at sea, evenwhen the boats appeared in sight. Having bravedthe open sea in all its fury, the attempt to takethe harbour at the ebb might have been disastrousto all.

With this preface we offer to our readers adescription of such a scene as witnessed by onewho has kindly placed it at our disposal. Hisstory runs as follows:

'It's a sair, sair nicht, sir. God help them outon the sea!' With these words was I greeted as,through the darkness of that awful night of the3d of August last, I groped my way to theharbour of the small fishing-village on the eastcoast of Scotland where I was then staying, beinginterested in the herring-fishing there.

On the evening of the night a

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