210 Saved.

to do when at sea, he answered: “Ship ahoy!
What is the matter?”

“Help us!” was the answer. “Our captain
is dead. Our boat is drifting on these rocks, and
we don't know what to do.”

“ Have you an anchor?” shouted Donald.

“Ves, two.”

“Then, throw them both out,” roared the boy.
This was evidently done. The rattling of the
anchor-chains could be distinctly heard in the
quiet room, even above the roaring of the storm.
Then Donald waited in breathless suspense, for
although he knew, of course, that anchors in real
seas did hold real ships, he could not know how
they might act in a picture-sea, and holding a
picture-boat. But anchors are anchors, after all,
wherever they be found. These held, and to Don-
ald’s great delight and relief the boat was saved /

When Mamma heard the story later, she
smiled, and in fact, so did I, when he told me
about it in the afternoon. (I am Donald's aunt,
and we are great chums.) I thought, at first, as
his mother did, that he must have been dreaming,