Evening star., 1926-06-20


home; the men who man them
too. And if the little cheruh
that sits aloft stays on the job
xeels and souls may never 1all
Yo,:l of trouble But to the end that
trouble. if they meet it, may fall
snort of destroying then-ships and
men-there are other jobs, unoo
tl-usive Jobs, which must be stayed
,vith though the elements and the
heavens clash and utterly fall.
Lifeboat men. On some coasts the
life.savers belong to regular, PAID
enlisted service. on some other coasts
lfeboat men - volunteers; the boats
are bought and maintained by Volun-
taI-v subscription. and there are rare
" any rewards other than the con
seriousness of duty nobly done. Some
times a medal sometimes money
reward But. reward or not, the Vol
uuteer lifeboat men never fail in their
duty. If any comparison could De
made between men whose lives are
devoted to such a service as saving
other lives around the bitter coasts
of the earth. in the bitter storms that
visit the earth. the palm must go to
the volunteers.
of such was old Bob Stafford. boat
house keeper for volunteer lifeboat
49,
the god of storms ever sent. u sea
against Bob was 65. His black hair
had long turned to gray. u white. SO
had his haronial muStaChe and goatee.
But Bob Stafford dyed bolh--a glossy
black.
Bob kept house against Tire time
when the lifeboat might he wanted.
His was the duty to keep the lanterns
trimmed the rocket lines coiled and
ready. the launching plaukS creased
and free from accumulated drift sand.
His was the only paid job, and the
pay was scanty; but there was bit
of garden. a bit OF a ground where
he could keep his rabbits in wired
hutches and a tiny room. as big as a
second mates cabin in deep-water
shin, where he could stand his sea-
chest, hang his bag and hear the
crash of the sea on the headland to
the west.
Bob's customary attire was some
what by way of being a reflection OF
the man. In the mornings, when he
cleaned out his rabbit hutches, grub
he'd in his garden. swept the sand
from his launching ways and trimmed
his lamps. he wore canvas trousers
and an old canvas "Cunarder" or slip
over frock Both were we'll weather
proofed With paint, soil and grease;
but nowhere was a seam agape, no.
where a hole. Sailorly stitches held
The seams; a seaman-like patch on
one knee looked as if it might well
outlast not only the trousers but the
man.
1t wah In the afternoons and eve
rings that Bob Shone Then he had
little to do except scan sea and shore
frequently with the big telescope; and
that only in bad or doubtful weather.
At seasons when his garden was pro-
ducinG. he perhaps picked a blossom
or two for his table, a radish or two
for his eating or, more likely still,
leaf of lettuce for his rabbits. But.
whatever the season or the weather,
he always dressed for the afternoon
in deep water bue-coarSe Fear
uaugilt" trousers, as blue as the eye
Of a Bermuda hurricane. an old blue
boatswain'S jacket. collarloss single
breasted, with brass anchor buttons
which he steadfastlv refused TO clean
of their ycarS-oid salt tarnish. and
real. time O Noah" boatSwain's S
visored cap that fitted him like a
harnacle fits a wooden ship.
There was still one more stage in
the daily life Of old Bob Stafford.
When he retired to his lonely little
he coast guard on the cliff, he had a
habit of sitting on his bunk for half
an hour. smoking his ripe old briar,
rogitating Above his Sea-cheSt hung
two pictures of sailing ships. The
stately Lady .Joceivn. frigate-built
East Indianmen with her broad chain
channels and her quarter galleries,
faunted n Saucy stern to the lofty,
etunSail-cloudcd Ieander; while over
both hung Il framed certificate as TO
one Robert Staffords fitness TO act as
first mate on vessels of unlimited ton
mage on any sea or ocean of the
world.
Sometimes. when hn had Eazed at
these things and his eyes had clouded
q bit with memory. Bob would open
his sea chest and take out a battered
old sea-cap with a tarniShed, gold
Wreathed badge. and put 1t on his
aged head. 1t was then that the
mirror saw the Bob Stafford that
high have been. Then the rabbits in
their hutcneS. brought in for the
night and covered over with Bob's old
hoatsWain's Jacket. heard things heard
by no man muttcred into the pitiful,
blue black. white rooted beard.
Not big enough Haven't got the
presence"
Over and over he would mutter
those sentences. while, gazing into
the mirror. his old face would scowl.
end his chest press out against the
tight jacket.
But always the end was the same.
Cap and Jacket had to go back to
their places; the swelling chest re-
laxed; the scowl gave place to the
habitual sober expression, and Bob
Stafford went to his bed. the boat
house keeper still.
* * * *
ONCE on time he had been young.
~ AS smart young seaman as ever
crossed a top. Crack ships he IA
,-nrcd Lilo I adr Incnlrr, q nd .ea ndef.