72 In Great Waters

get away, and row back in the darkness to the mis-
sion boat for the night.

Service on the Wharf. The morrow brings us fresh
opportunities, for the weekly mail boat has arrived—
and gone, and in the meantime the folk have come
from all over, some in small gas boats, others in row-
boats, and a great surprise awaits them, the United
Church Mission boat is in. After the mail is dis-
tributed, we have a service. Just as the sun is set-
ting over the mountains, illuminating everything
with a rosy light, we gather on the wharf. We take
our little portable organ off the boat and place it on
the wharf by the freight shed. My wife with her
violin and her brother at the organ lead the singing.
The little congregation is for the most part seated
on the deck of the Mission boat. What better hymn
could we open with than “‘ Unto the Hills,” and we do
sing it. We have prayer, we sing a simple trio and
another hymn, ‘‘Tell Me the Old, Old Story.’”” We
say a few words; then, with a solo and the closing
hymn, our little informal service isover. A pressing
invitation for us to spend the evening at another
home. Our host this time goes many miles in a
small gas-boat to bring a lady who lives by herself,
who is very lonely, and who craves for music.

We Don’t Get This Every Day. So another even-
ingisspent. We sing, and we play, and we sing some
more. We sing the old favourite songs, we play some
classical music, we sing hymns, and we talk, and