ead down, seal-skin boots up, turning over like a
cart-wheel.

"Ky-ey! Ky-ey! Ah, Sammy! Ky-ey! Ky-ey! Catch him!"

It was that old enemy, Billy Blubber, ky-eying in part, and laughing
also as if he would split. He only expected to get Sammy to the top of
the hill and there tell him he was fooled.

"This though is better than a sea-lion hunt," thought Billy, and he
roared again and shook till he threatened to come in pieces like a
barrel when the hoops are off.

"I will catch you and pay you," said Sammy.

"Try it," defiantly shouted Billy, wearing now his own boots, having
dropped his mother's red casings.

Off went Billy. Right ahead, was a great gray ledge. There was a crack
in the ledge big enough for a boy's foot. Billy was the boy to have his
foot caught in it! He tried to pull it out, but the sudden wrench was
not good for his foot, and there he stood yelling--he was ky-eying now
in good earnest.

"I have a great mind," thought Sammy, "to let you stay there. I wonder
how you would like to stay and have a duck come along and nip off your
nose."

It would have been a nice little nip, for Billy's nose was quite plump.
It looked like a fat plum stuck on to the side of a pumpkin.

Well, how long should Sammy have kept him there?

"Till the sun went down," says some one.

The idea! Why, the sun in summer goes round and round and round, never
setting through June and July. Then the sun begins to dip below the
horizon, going lower and lower, till at last it disappears. For one
hundred and twenty-six days Sammy and Billy did not see the sun. Through
that long, dark night, the stars would shine, so white and solemn, down
upon the ice and snow everywhere stretching. Until the last of July
would have been a long time for plum-nosed Billy to stand with his foot
in that crack. Suddenly, Sammy heard a noise. "What is that?" he asked.

It was a walrus bellowing in the bay. Sammy turned toward the blue
water. As he turned, he saw the minister standing near his chapel. Sammy
thought of the text he preached from, the Sunday before, and he began to
repeat it to himself:

"_Love your enemies_--"

"I guess I will let Billy stay here about an hour," said Sammy,
meditating.

"_Bless them that curse you_--"

"I guess I will let Billy stay here half an hour."

"_Do good to them that hate you_--"

"I guess I will let Billy stay here ten minutes."

"_And pray for them which despitefully use you_--"

"I guess I wil