hat a picnic, even on
Pitcairn, was not a matter of profound importance, but he must remember
that that particular picnic was to be held in honour of Thursday's baby.
It may be that this remark is thrown away on those who are not in the
position of Thursday. If so, let it pass.

"We will invite Father Adams to go with us," continued Toc, ingeniously
referring to Adams in a manner suggestive of the idea that there were
other fathers on the island as well as he.

When Father Adams was invited, he accepted the invitation heartily, and,
slapping Toc on his huge broad back, wished him joy of the "noo babby,"
and hoped he might live to see it grow up to have "a babby of its own
similar to itself, d'ye see?" at which remark Toc laughed with evident
delight.

Well, the whole thing was arranged, and they proceeded to carry the
picnic into effect. It was settled that some were to go by land, though
the descent from the cliffs to the cove was not an easy or safe one.
Others were to go by water, and the water-party was sub-divided into two
bands. One band, which included Susannah and the amazing baby, was to
go in canoes; the other was to swim. The distance by water might be
about eight miles, but that was a mere trifle to the Pitcairners, some
of whom could swim right round their island.

It turned out, however, that that charming island was not altogether
exempt from those vicissitudes of weather which play such a prominent
part in the picnicry of other and less favoured lands, for while they
were yet discussing the arrangements of the day, a typhoon stepped in
unexpectedly to arrest them.

It may be that there are some persons in Britain who do not know
precisely what a typhoon is. If they saw or felt one, they would not be
apt to forget it. Roughly speaking, a typhoon is a terrific storm.
Cyclopaedias, which are supposed to tell us about everything, say that
the Chinese name such a storm "Tei-fun," or "hot-wind." No-fun would
seem to be a more appropriate term, if one were to name it from results.
One writer says of typhoons, "They are storms which rage with such
intensity and fury that those who have never seen them can form no
conception of them; you would say that heaven and earth wished to return
to their original chaos."

Obviously, if this writer be correct, there would be no use in our
attempting to enlighten those "who can form no conception" of the thing.
Nevertheless, in the hope that the writer referred