1 6 LETTERS FROM HIGH LATITUDES. [V, 



Thinking to draw consolation from his professional ex- 

 periences, I heard Fitz's voice, now very weak, say in a tone 

 of coaxing cheerfulness, — 



" Well, Wilson, I suppose this kind of thing does not last 

 long ? " 



The Voice, as of the tomb. — "I don't know, Sir." 



Fitz. — " But you must have often seen passengers sick." 



The Voice. — "Often, Sir; very sick." 



Fitz. — "Well; and on an average, how soon did they 

 recover ? " 



The Voice. — " Some of them didn't recover, Sir." 



Fitz.—" Well, but those that did ? " 



The Voice. — " I know'd a clergyman and his wife as were 

 ill all the voyage ; five months, Sir." 



Fitz. — ( Quite silent. ) 



The Voice; now become sepulchral. — " They sometimes dies, 

 Sir." 



Fitz.—" Ugh ! " 



Before the end of the voyage, however, this Job's com- 

 forter himself fell ill, and the Doctor amply revenged him- 

 self by prescribing for him. 



Shortly after this, a very melancholy occurrence took 

 place. I had observed for some days past, as we proceeded 

 north, and the nights became shorter, that the cock we 

 shipped at Stornaway had become quite bewildered on the 

 subject of that meteorological phenomenon called the Dawn 

 of Day. In fact, I doubt whether he ever slept for more 

 than five minutes at a stretch, without waking up in a state 

 of nervous agitation, lest it should be cock-crow. At last, 

 when night ceased altogether, his constitution could no 

 longer stand the shock. He crowed once or twice sarcasti- 

 cally, then went melancholy mad : finally, taking a calenture, 

 he cackled lowly (probably of green fields), and leaping 

 overboard, drowned himself. The mysterious manner in 

 which every day a fresh member of his harem used to dis- 

 appear, may also have preyed upon his spirits. 



At last, on the morning of the eighth day, we began to 



