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Waikato Independent, Volume XL, Issue 3666, 10 February 1940, Page 7

their oars harder still, but the boat made no progress whatever; in fact, Peter thought they were going backwards. Evidently the otliei occupants of the boat had noticed this also, for Peter’s friend suddenly cried, “Pull mates, or we’ll all be in. ‘Davy Jones’ Locker’ within ten minutes!” The crew responded to his cry, and Peter felt the boat edge forward inch by inch. The strain was telling on the men and soon the boat ceased to make any progress, but the danger of being pulled down with the suction of the sinking ship had passed. The men had lessened their efforts somewhat now that the main danger had passed, and had turned their attention to the sea, when suddenly Peter’s rescuer cried, “Four boats are gone! The pull was too . strong!” The crew gazed hopefully at the spot where their ship had sunk for some sign of the survivors. Then, at a call from the bos’n their gaze was averted to the remaining lifeboat which was being tossed about like a cork in the still-angry sea. Then a cry of dismay burst from the men’s throats, for the life-boat had been overturned and the occupants were struggling valiantly for their lives, but the sea was too strong for their feeble efforts, and one by one the bobbing heads disappeared, never to rise again.

The occupants of Peter’s boat had striven to reach the drowning men, but the sea, as though laughing at their puny efforts, had carried them further away. After two hours of tossing Peter’s boat, the storm gradually died away and by nightfall the sea had become reasonably calm. The crew had eaten a scanty meal, and a few of them were slumped over their oars, their strength exhausted and their eyes heavy with sleep, when Peter made his presence known. He had crepe under a tarpaulin in the fury of the storm and had remained there, until his stomach told him to move. The mate, spying him, held out his hand offering a small crust of bread to Peter, saying, “Still alive, mate?”

Peter sniffed disdainfully at the meagre crust, turned it over once or twice with his paw, then sat looking at it, with his nose turned up as far as it possibly could be. The mate, watching him, smiled and said, “Not satisfied, eh? Well, you’ll have to get used to it, old fellow. You’re lucky to get that much!” Peter gazed up unwinkingly at him, then turned haughtily away from the dry crust. The mate chuckled and said, “You’ll get hungry after a while, and eat it then, my boy.” Peter took no notice whatever of the mate’s words for he had already curled up comfortably in the tarpaulin, and was fast asleep. lie awake next morning, wondering why his cushion felt so hard, when he suddenly remembered where he was. He searched around for his crust, and not finding it, looked reproachfully up at the mate who was gazing down at him with twinkling eyes. ' “Hungry, old fellow?” he asked chuckling. “I guess you won’t turn up your nose at this, now!” and so saying he threw Peter his lastnight’s crust. Peter sighed, but as he knew lie would get nothing else, he settled down to gnaw at it gingerly. The day passed slowly without any sight of land or ship. The hot sun beat down on. the small party and their supply of water rapidly diminished. Peter received another small crust, and being very hungry, ate it immediately. As the second day came and went, the food and water supply became less and less. Peter received only a small piece of dry biscuit, and felt hunger gnawing at him as he had never felt it before. On the third morning the last of the water and food was handed out. The men grumbled at Peter having any, when food was so scarce, so Peter received a small share of the mate’s portion. Peter had never felt so hungry before, and lie was also getting very tired of the monotonous life in the lifeboat. The crew were straining their eyes to the horizon, longing for the sight of a ship, when a seaman suddenly cried, “At last, there’s a ship!” The others raised a cheer into which Peter joined loudly, not because he had seen the ship, but because somebody was standing on his tail. The crew quickly hoisted a flag,

and the ship soon, came to their rescue.

Peter was, of course, very glad to get on board, and to receive a large saucer of milk from a stewardess. As be was finishing his milk the mate, seeing him, said: “Well, matey, you’re safe, along with the rest of us. How would you like to come along with us and be the ship’s mascot?”

Peter, of course, didn’t understand what he said, but anyway he jumped up into the mate’s lap and purred contentedly.

The changes time brings! ; Half-a-century ago no one' With any pretensions to respectability would have dreamt of smoking in the street, and few clubs or private houses possessed smoke-rooms. Today as many pipes and cigarettes are smoked out of doors as indoors, and every club and every large private residence rejoices in its smoke-room. But public taste is more fastidious than, of old in the choice of tobacco, and the best brands now command the largest sale. This is especially noticeable

in New Zealand where “toasted* has become so highly popular. Go where you will, you’ll find the five famous toasted brands, Cut Plug No. 10 (Bullshead), Navy Cut No. 3 (Bulldog), Cavendish, Riverhead Gold and Desert Gold on sale. “Once a smoker always a smoker,” it is said, and it’s no less true than once a smoker of toasted always a smoker of toasted. For there’s nothing to compare with it for flavour and bouquet, also for purity and harmlessness. The toasting eliminates the nicotine! But beware of “imitation” toasted. It’s no goodl