grine.

"Tell us all about it," said Fred, settling himself with two or three
severe fidgets into the seat of his chair.

"I _was_ going to have protested against the children asking you for
another story so soon, Peregrine," said Mamma, "but now I feel selfish,
for your wave-story will be quite as much for me as for the little
ones."

"Where was it, Cousin Peregrine?"

"Where was the wave, do you mean? It was in the great South Seas. As to
where I was, I was in a sailing-vessel bound for South Australia. To
begin at the beginning, I must explain to you that this vessel was one
of those whose captains accepted the instruments offered by the Board of
Trade to any ship that would keep a meteorological log. I was fond of
such matters, and I took the trouble off the captain's hands, by keeping
his meteorological log for him."

"What is a meteorological log, Cousin?"

"A kind of diary, in which you put down the temperature of the sea and
air, how cold or hot they are--the way the wind blows, how the barometer
is, and anything special and interesting about the weather overhead or
the currents in the sea. Now I must tell you that there had been a good
deal of talk about currents of warm water in the Southern Ocean, like
the Gulf Stream of the Atlantic, which keeps the west coasts of Great
Britain so warm. But these South Sea currents had not been very
accurately observed, and information on the subject was desired. Well,
one day we got right into a warm current."

"How did you know, Cousin?"

"By drawing up a bucket of water out of the sea, and putting the
thermometer into it. But I ought to tell you what a thermometer is--"

"We know quite well," said Maggie. "Nurse always put it into Baby's bath
when he had fits, to see if the water was the right warmth."

"Very good, Maggie. Then let me tell you that the water of the sea got
nearly thirty degrees warmer on that day between noon and midnight."

"How did you know about midnight?" Maggie inquired doubtfully; "weren't
you in bed?"

"No, I was not, I was very busy all day 'taking observations' every hour
or two, and it was at twelve o'clock this very night that the 'comber'
broke on deck."

"What _is_ a 'comber'?"

"A 'comber' is the name for a large wave with a comb or crest of foam, a
sort of wave over which our ship ought to have ridden; but I must tell
you that it was no easy matter to meet them on this occasion, because
(owing to the cross currents) the wa