Our Sky Pilots and Their Boats 13

hearing such singing an up-coast man said to me,
“Tf I ever get converted it will be by singing, not
preaching.’’ On suitable occasions the men will be
treated to a musical evening of vocal solos and duets
with instrumental music on the guitar or little
folding organ. There will be love songs, humorous
songs, and songs of other days and home. If it only
helps to give these lonely fellows a happy evening
surely that in itself is Christian service; and then who
knows what hearts are touched, what purifying
memories are awakened, what arguments are
answered by these kindly offices, outside the conven-
tional categories of ministerial services, done for men
who are hungry for the wholesome thing you give
them? I would speak further of Scott’s fine work
but, instead, we shall have him tell his own story
later on.

Near Mr. Scott there lives the veteran Christian
sailor, Captain William Oliver, now eighty years of
age. Long ago, when about thirty years of age, he
was won for Christ, and throughout these fifty years
he has put not a tithe, not a large share, but all his
time, energy and means into the work of Christ
along these lonely shores. His whole-hearted de-
votion, and thorough-going willingness to serve his
fellow men without counting the cost, have been as
the shadow of a great rock in a weary land to many a
man doubting, sinful, or broken. In telling the
history of the mission his name appears and re-
appears. The story of the Methodist branch of the
mission is, in a real sense, the story of Captain