aturest, most thoughtful and balanced mind,
and one of the happiest appetites I ever found in a boy of fourteen,
singularly ingenuous and high-minded, a rare spirit.

P----, photographer, skilful, and a good fellow.

W----, whose wife is enviable among women.

Captain H----, employed by Bradford, not as master, but as general
ally,--old whaler, one of Nature's noblemen, to whom experience has been
a university and the world a book, strong as the strongest of men,
tender as the tenderest of women.

Ph----, fine Greek and Latin scholar, rich as Croesus and simple in
his habits as Ochiltree,--passionately fond of travel,--as well read, I
will undertake to say, in the literature of travel in Egypt, Arabia,
Syria, and Turkey, as any other man twenty-five years old in Europe or
America,--full of facts, strong in mind, deep In heart, religious,
candid, sincere, courageous, at once frank and reticent,--a thoroughly
large and profound nature, whom it was worth going to Labrador to meet.

Finally, your humble servant, "the Elder," who trusts that the reader
remembers meeting him before, and has somewhat, at least, of his own
pleasure in renewing the acquaintance.

* * * * *

The morning of June twelfth, our second Sunday on board, was one to
remain memorable among mornings for beauty,--for these were halcyon
days, and Nature could not change for a moment from her mood. It was
nowise odd or strange, no Nubian of Thibetan beauty, no three-faced
Hindoo divinity, but a regular Grecian-featured Apollo, amber in
forehead, fitly arrayed, coming to a world worthy of him. Cape-Breton
Isle was a strip of denser sky on the southeast horizon; on the west,
far away, rose Entry Island, one of the Magdalen group, deliciously
ruddy and Mediterranean-looking, seen through the lovely, ethereal,
purple haze; while others of the group appeared farther away, one of
them, long and low, an island of absolute gold, polished gold, splendid
as gold under sunshine can be. The light wind bore us on so serenely as
to give the sense of calm more than calm itself; while the music of our
motion through the water, that incomparable barytone, rendered this calm
into sound.

It was the very Sabbath and Sunday of Nature,--her Sabbath of rest, and
her Sunday of joy. I was surprised to find myself not surprised by this
wonderful morning. It seemed not new nor foreign, but suggested some
divine old-time familiarity and fellowshi