It sometimes happens that the rocket cannot be used—­perhaps on account of the position of the vessel, perhaps through the stupidity of the crew.  In that case other means must be employed.  Last winter a ship came on the shore; the sea broke heavily over her, and her crew had to take to the rigging.  A plucky brigadesman swam off through waves that might have stupefied a bulldog; he had to watch his chances, and breathe when the crest had rushed on so that he might make his next plunge through the combing crest; and he managed to make his rope fast and save the people.  Southward of Shields a ship got into a still more awkward place than the one last mentioned.  She was carried in by a terrific sea, and jammed on the stones at the foot of a cliff.  The captain’s wife and child were lashed to the mast, and the captain himself was made fast somewhere; all the other poor souls were washed overboard.  No boat could live in the breakers; no rocket was handy.  But a sailor called Matthews got some friends to lower him down the face of the scarp.  The wind knocked him against jutting points; the rope twirled and spun him about; but he got foothold on the deck and managed to hang on.  By working cautiously he dodged up to the mast and fastened the little child in a comfortable bight of the rope; then he sent the woman aloft; then he sent the captain, and was hauled up safely himself.  Matthews had no reward for this piece of work, and is now a poor pitman.

There is no end to the bravery of these amateur life-savers.  Only a very little while ago a ship came on shore.  The sea was like a huge pouring cataract, and the wind pressed like a solid body.  The dandy new lifeboats were beaten back; the men on board tugged and strained till they were exhausted.  The oars were double-manned, but nothing would avail; and all the time the cry of the men on the wrecked vessel sounded through the storming of the gale.  At last one man said, “Let’s have the old ‘Tyne.’” The “Tyne” is a superannuated lifeboat which is kept under lock and key.  The key was refused, and the men who demanded it were implored not to tempt Providence.  Thereupon they coolly formed themselves into a phalanx, rushed against the door, burst it in, hauled the old “Tyne” down, and saved eight lives.

KEELMEN.

The keel is a strange kind of barge which is only seen on three of our northern rivers.  She is sharp at both ends, and her lines are extremely fine.  When loaded her deck is flush with the water; yet, under sail, her speed is very great, and she is as handy as a skiff.  These boats are principally used for carrying coals to and from vessels that lie out in the river; but they are often employed in conveying various sorts of goods from town to town.  In the old times, when the Tyne was very shallow, the colliers were loaded from keels, and the river then swarmed with the low black craft.  The keelmen formed a little commonwealth by themselves; their