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."