We had a new experience the other day (relates a writer in the _Atlantic
Monthly_) when we picked up two boatloads of survivors from the----,
torpedoed without warning. I will say they were pretty glad to see us
when we bore down on them. As we neared they began to paddle
frantically, as though fearful we should be snatched away from them at
the last moment. The crew were mostly Arabs and Lascars, and the first
mate, a typical comic magazine Irishman, delivered himself of the
following: "Sure, toward the last some o' thim haythen gits down on
their knees and starts calling on Allah: but I sez, sez I, 'Git up afore
I swat ye wid the ax handle, ye benighted haythen; sure if this boat
gits saved 't will be the Holy Virgin does it or none at all, at all!
Git up,'sez I."