to that dinner-bell with a promptitude quite equal to that secured by
military discipline! There was a rattling of feet on decks and
ladderways for a few seconds, and then all was quiet while a blessing
was asked on the meal.

For many years Miss Annie Macpherson has herself conducted parties of
such boys to Canada, but the party of which we write happened to be in
charge of a gentleman whom we will name the Guardian; he was there to
keep order, of course, but in truth this was not a difficult matter, for
the affections of the boys had been enlisted, and they had already
learned to practise self-restraint.

That same day a whale was seen. It produced a sensation among the boys
that is not easily described. Considerately, and as if on purpose, it
swam round the ship and displayed its gigantic proportions; then it
spouted as though to show what it could do in that line, and then, as if
to make the performance complete and reduce the Westminster Aquarium to
insignificance, it tossed its mighty tail on high, brought it down with
a clap like thunder, and finally dived into its native ocean followed by
a yell of joyful surprise from the rescued waifs and strays.

There were little boys, perhaps even big ones, in that band, who that
day received a lesson of faith from the whale. It taught them that
pictures, even extravagant ones, represent great realities. The whale
also taught them a lesson of error, as was proved by the remark of one
waif to a brother stray:--

"I say, Piggie, it ain't 'ard _now_, to b'lieve that the whale swallered
Jonah."

"You're right, Konky."

Strange interlacing of error with error traversed by truth in this
sublunary sphere! Piggie was wrong in admitting that. Konky was right,
for, as every one knows, or ought to know, it was not a whale at all
that swallowed Jonah, but a "great fish" which was "prepared" for the
purpose.

But the voyage of the _Ocean Queen_ was not entirely made up of calms,
and luminous fogs, and bergs, and whales, and food. A volume would be
required to describe it all. There was much foul weather as well as
fair, during which periods a certain proportion of the little flock,
being not very good sailors, sank to depths of misery which they had
never before experienced--not even in their tattered days--and even
those of them who had got their "sea-legs on," were not absolutely
happy.

"I say, Piggie," asked the waif before mentioned of his chum, (or
dosser), K