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the slender gilt frame could hold so great a storm
as was evidently going on there. The waves were
fearfully and wonderfully high, while the sky above
them was black and angry. At the left of the
picture stood a group of tall jagged rocks, while
very near, and aiming directly for them, was a poor
battered, storm-tossed ship. Its mast was broken,
and the torn sail dragged over the side. The rud-
der, too, must have been useless, for the boat
seemed to pay no attention to it, but obeyed only
the fierce wind, which was blowing it directly
toward the rocks and destruction !

While Donald was looking at the boat, he sud-
denly sprang to his feet in amazement. It seemed
incredible—he could scarcely believe his ears, but
from that boat had come the unmistakable sound,
faint but yet distinct, of someone shouting. (Don-
ald told me this himself, so I am sure there could
have been no mistake.) Going nearer the picture
he could see that the waves were moving, actually
moving, while from the boat, and quite distinctly
now, came the cry, ‘Boy ahoy.” Putting both
hands to his mouth, as his father had taught him