I arose shortly after six, wrote my portion of Record for the Morning and read a little of Maltebrun. But for the rest of the day, instead of pursuing my studies, I went fishing with John. We had not much sport. But we took off three boys from the bottom of a boat which had been upset by a squall in the Channel. One white boy and two 118coloured ones. And strange to say, the white one seemed the greatest chicken of the three. He moaned the most and seemed to have shown the least courage for the emergency. Evening, Cards as usual.