y," returned Annis, with a smile, "if my going
would give so entirely false an impression; since I have had abundance of
room and a most delightful time."

"Then you will stay on?"

"Yes, for a while; but I must go home for a day or two at least before
leaving for the South."

"We will let you know our plans in season for that," the captain promised,
and the thing was considered settled.

When her passengers awoke the next morning the _Dolphin_ was lying at her
old anchorage near the beautiful Peristyle.

All had returned rested and refreshed, and were eager to go on shore in
search of further entertainment and instruction.

The greater part of the day was spent in the Midway Plaisance. They
visited the Lapland family of King Bull, the most prominent character in
that village, and found them all seated beside their odd-looking hut,
which, like the others in the village, was made of skin, tent-like in
shape, and banked up with moss. The entrance was very small, the door made
of a piece of wood. A fire was kept burning in the centre of the house, in
the ground. There was no chimney; some of the smoke escaped through a
little hole in the roof, if the wind was right. But if the wind comes
from the wrong direction the smoke stays in the house, and the people
enjoy it. It does not, however, improve their complexions, which are said
to be, in their native state, not unlike the color of a well-cured ham.

King Bull they found had the largest house, and a very large family.

The Laplanders marry young, and it is not unusual for a grandfather to be
under twenty-five years of age. King Bull was one hundred and twelve years
old and had great-great-great-great-great-grandchildren, and every day he
played for a little while with the youngest of those.

Our friends learned that he had with him a son, Bals Bull, ninety years
old, that he had a son aged seventy-three, he had a daughter aged
fifty-nine, she a son aged forty-one, who had a son aged twenty-nine, who
had a daughter aged fourteen, and she a daughter two years old.

"Dear me!" exclaimed Rosie, on hearing this, "how old it makes a body
feel! Why, just think! the mother of that two-year-old child is a year
younger than you, Grace Raymond; and you don't consider yourself much more
than a child yet, do you?"

"No, indeed! and don't want to be anything but my father's own little
girl," returned Grace, giving him a loving look that said more than her
words.

"Can you