n Roxbury, and what strange sounds were heard there when the boys stood
below, laughing and talking. What I now heard recalled most vividly all
those experiences. To soothe my mind a little, I then took a jews-harp
from my pocket and played the "Star-spangled Banner." The effect was
beautiful and almost magical, and I sank at once into a delicious
reverie.

But, as the time drew near when I supposed that I might expect to emerge
from my present position, I began to feel anxious as to what would
become of me when I came out. I anticipated, of course, that, moving at
such a fearful rate, I must expect to shoot up rather high in the air;
and the question was, where I should probably land. If, as is generally
supposed, it is a clear, open sea at the pole, I shall not _land_ at
all, but come down into the water. In this case, I am inevitably lost:
but still my faith was not shaken; after all that I had endured, it did
not seem likely that I should be left to perish in the sea. I could do
nothing but trust and wait.

In process of time the light began to steal in upon the darkness, and I
knew that another crisis was approaching,--the most trying and
formidable that I had been called to encounter. And, shortly, out I
went, high up in the air,--higher--higher,--until I thought that I
should never come down again. But, after a time, I felt that I was
descending; and the fear came upon me that I might tumble back once more
into the axis of the earth. If I had reflected a moment, I might have
perceived that this would be impossible; for, as soon as I had sunk from
my elevation down to a point not more than a hundred feet from the end
of the pole, I met the swift current of air rushing out, and was once
more hoisted up in the clouds. This was repeated several times over; and
I found myself in the condition of a cork ball, sustained in the air by
a stream of water from a fountain. It is a little odd, that at this time
there came to my mind a vivid recollection of such a cork ball that I
used to see tossing about in front of the hotel that formerly stood at
the corner of Tremont and Boylston streets, in Boston. At last it
occurred to me, that if at the time when I had nearly reached the
highest point of my ascent, and therefore must be moving very slowly, I
should fan the air with my cap, as I did before, it might waft me out of
the line of the north pole; and that I might as well come down into the
sea and be drowned, as to keep on