CHAPTER XVII. 



THE ARCTIC NIGHT. 



January 20 th. 



The Morn is coming ! 



A faint twilight flush mounted the southern sky- 

 to-day at the meridian hour, and, although barely per- 

 ceptible, it was a cheering sight to all of us. 



At our usual Sunday gathering, I read from Eccle- 

 siastes these lines : — 



" Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eye to 

 behold the sun." 



And this suggested the text for our evening con- 

 versation ; and we talked long of the future and of 

 what was to be done, with the coming again of the 

 god of day. 



We all feel now that the veil of night is lifting, that 

 the cloud is passing away, that the heavy load of 

 darkness is being lightened. The people have ex- 

 hausted their means of amusement ; the newspaper 

 has died a natural death ; theatricals are impossible ; 

 and there is nothing new to break the weariness of 

 the long hours. 



But we shall soon lia,ve no need to give thought to 

 these tilings. There will be ere long neither time nor 

 occasion for amusements. The Arctic night will soon 

 be numbered with the things of the past. We are 

 eager that it shall have an end, and we long for the 

 day and work. 



