sense as
well as Christianity. Little did I then think that these people, placed
by a seeming chance in an adjoining stateroom, were to be my
fellow-workers and true friends, not only for the coming months in that
Arctic land to which we were going, but, as the sequel will show,
perhaps for years to come.

Not many days had passed when we found that we had on board what few
steamers can boast of, and that was an orchestra of professional
musicians among the waiters. These were men going, with all the others,
to seek their fortunes in the new gold fields, working their passage as
waiters on the ship to Nome, where they intended to leave it. Three
evenings in the week these musicians, with the help of several singers
on board, gave concerts in the dining salon, which, though impromptu,
were very enjoyable.

A sweet and trained singer was the English girl of our company, and she
sang many times, accompanied by the stringed instruments of the
musicians, much to the delight of the assembled passengers. When she
sang, one evening, in her clear sympathetic voice the selection, "Oh,
Where Is My Wandering Boy Tonight," there was not a dry eye in the room,
and the mind of many a man went back to his old home and praying mother
in some far distant state, making him resolve to write oftener to her
that she might be comforted with a knowledge of his whereabouts and
welfare. These evenings were sometimes varied by recitations from an
elocutionist on board; and a practised clog dancer excited the risibles
of the company to the extent that they usually shouted with laughter at
his exhibition of flying heels.

Day after day passed. Those who were continually seasick had diversion
enough. It was useless for us to tell them a pathetic tale of some one,
who, at some time, had been more ill than they, because they would not
believe a word of it, and it was equally useless to recommend an
antidote for mal de mer such as theirs. "No one was ever so ill before,"
they said. They knew they should die and be buried at sea, and hoped
they would if that would put an end to their sufferings. We tried at
last to give them comfort by recommending out of former experiences
ship's biscuit, dry toast and pop-corn as remedies, but only received
black looks as our reward. We then concluded that a diet of tea, coffee
and soup was exactly such a one as the fishes would recommend could they
speak, these favorite and much used liquids keeping up a continua