course, be attended to, and every Saturday night the chef appointed for the week concocts a plain but wholesome plum-pudding, which has become a regular institution. Light-keepers, nowadays, are not reduced to the necessity of eating the candles, as they occasionally were in Smeaton's time, for a large supply of tinned meats and biscuits, provided by the Trinity House, is always kept ready for emergencies.
Lighting up.
At the hour of dusk the lamp is lighted, so I accompany the keeper (who now begins his watch) into the interior of the glass drum, and observe how, with a spring grip, he raises the lamp-chimney and ignites the wicks; but, being still daylight, the illumination is not brilliant, although it increases in brightness as night comes on. The next proceeding is to wind up the gear which rotates the drums, and as the weight to be lifted is equal to a ton, and the operation lasts about an hour, it is somewhat fatiguing. The weight is contained in that portion of the column situated in the two lower rooms, which hollow iron column, running centrally through the whole length of the lighthouse, was constructed to hold both weight and chain for working the machinery which rotates the drums. Now, as the beams of light flash out seaward, I leave our friend to his solitary task for a chat with his mates in the snug kitchen below.
I find the light-keepers quiet and intelligent, having a full sense of their responsibility, although they do not take kindly to their occupation.
Even here, however, they are able to enjoy a modicum of pleasure, for fishing is practicable all the year round-in summer from the "set-off," with rod and line, in winter from the lantern gallery, because then the fish, being shy, keep away from the rocks and can only be caught by means of a long line with a bladder attached, which is blown by the wind in the direction required, the fish thus captured including bass, pollock, bream, horse mackerel, and congers. The bladder-line is also used for transferring letters to pilot-boats, when they
