y, of course, surpassed
any previous one--food was the chief thing we had to hold festival
with. The dinner was a very fine one indeed; so was the supper,
and after it piles of Christmas cakes came on the table; Juell had
been busy making them for several weeks. After that we enjoyed a
glass of toddy and a cigar, smoking in the saloon being, of course,
allowed. The culminating point of the festival came when two boxes with
Christmas presents were produced. The one was from Hansen's mother,
the other from his fiancee--Miss Fougner. It was touching to see the
childlike pleasure with which each man received his gift--it might
be a pipe or a knife or some little knickknack--he felt that it was
like a message from home. After this there were speeches; and then
the Framsjaa appeared, with an illustrated supplement, selections
from which are given. The drawings are the work of the famous Arctic
draughtsman, Huttetu. Here are two verses from the poem for the day:

"When the ship's path is stopped by fathom-thick ice,
And winter's white covering is spread,
When we're quite given up to the power of the stream,
Oh! 'tis then that so often of home we must dream.

"We wish them all joy at this sweet Christmas-tide,
Health and happiness for the next year,
Ourselves patience to wait; 'twill bring us to the Pole,
And home the next spring, never fear!"

There were many more poems, among others one giving some account of
the principal events of the last weeks, in this style:

"Bears are seen, and dogs are born,
Cakes are baked, both small and large;
Henriksen, he does not fall,
Spite of bear's most violent charge;
Mogstad with his rifle clicks,
Jacobsen with long lance sticks,"

and so on. There was a long ditty on the subject of the "Dog Rape on
board the Fram:"

"Up and down on a night so cold,
Kvirre virre vip, bom, bom,
Walk harpooner and kennelman bold,
Kvirre virre vip, bom, bom;

Our kennelman swings, I need hardly tell,
Kvirre virre vip, bom, bom,
The long, long lash you know so well,
Kvirre virre vip, bom, bom;
Our harpooner, he is a man of light,
Kvirre virre vip, bom, bom,
A burning lantern he grasps tight,
Kvirre virre vip, bom, bom,
They as they walk the time beguile,
Kvirre virre vip,