dry
sly pieces of covert humour, such as handing the vinegar to each other
when the salt was requested, and becoming profusely apologetic upon
discovering their mistake. But the wildest storm is often succeeded by
the greatest calm, and the most hilarious mirth by the most solemn
gravity. In the midst of our fun Mr Grave proposed a toast. Each
filled a bumper, and silence reigned around while he raised his glass
and said, "Let us drink to absent friends." We each whispered, "Absent
friends," and set our glasses down in silence, while our minds flew back
to the scenes of former days, and we mingled again in spirit with our
dear, dear friends at home. How different the mirth of the loved ones
there, circling round the winter hearth, from that of the _men_ seated
round the Christmas table in the Nor'-West wilderness I question very
much if this toast was ever drunk with a more thorough appreciation of
its melancholy import than upon the present memorable occasion. Our sad
feelings, however, were speedily put to flight, and our gravity routed,
when the skipper, with characteristic modesty, proposed, "The ladies;"
which toast we drank with a hearty good-will, although, indeed, the
former included them, inasmuch as they also were _absent_ friends--the
only one within two hundred and fifty miles of us being Mr Grave's
wife.

What a magical effect ladies have upon the male sex, to be sure!
Although hundreds of miles distant from an unmarried specimen of the
species, upon the mere mention of their name there was instantly a
perceptible alteration for the better in the looks of the whole party.
Mr Wilson unconsciously arranged his hair a little more becomingly, as
if his ladye-love were actually looking at him; and the skipper
afterwards confessed that his heart had bounded suddenly out of his
breast, across the snowy billows of the Atlantic, and come smash down on
the wharf at Plymouth Dock, where he had seen the last wave of Nancy's
checked cotton neckerchief as he left the shores of Old England.

Just as we had reached the above climax, the sound of a fiddle struck
upon our ears, and reminded us that our guests who had been invited to
the ball were ready; so, emptying our glasses, we left the dining-room,
and adjourned to the hall.

Here a scene of the oddest description presented itself. The room was
lit up by means of a number of tallow candles, stuck in tin sconces
round the walls. On benches and chairs sat the O