THE LAST CRUISE OF THE MIRANDA. 27 



philosopher, and friend to onr old friend Captain Cuttle. 

 Mr. Dumphy's oracular manner, and the significant nods 

 that accompanied his Delphic utterances, seemed to restore 

 complete confidence to the hearts of the timid ones, and so in 

 high feather and with large hopes we steamed out of the now 

 moonlit harbor, out into the open sea. 



During tlie afternoon I had seized the occasion to call upon 

 our consul at St. Johns, Mr. Molloy, whom I found to be a very 

 agreeable gentleman. He has been stationed at his present 

 post for over twenty years, and has served longer than any 

 other American consul. He had known all the Arctic 

 explorers for the past quarter of a century, and had many in- 

 teresting personal recollections. He told me that the famous 

 explorer Hall, who at one time was supposed to have been 

 poisoned by some of his crew, really died of eating too much 

 cake. He was inordinately fond of cake, and ate three pounds 

 of a rich compound one night — a feat that put a sudden end 

 to his explorations. 



As I was returning to the ship after my visit I was joined 

 by a member of the Newfoundland Parliament, McGrath 

 (pronounced McGraw) by name — a jovial, hearty - looking 

 man, who came on board and entered into conversation at 

 once with a party gathered there. When we explained our 

 intention of entering Melville Bay he looked both surprised 

 and amused. *' Well, well," he remarked, ** any one who 

 would go to the Arctic regions for amusement would go to 

 Sheol for recreation.'' Extremes sometimes meet, but though 

 we came near it, perhaps, we did not finally find the Arctic 

 regions a gateway to that eternally warm welcome we are told 

 awaits the unregenerate. 



Upon invitation I accompanied my new-found friend on 

 shore again, and we spent some time in discussing the peculiar 

 state of Newfoundland politics over an excellent bottle of 

 port wine. Then we strolled through the main thoroughfare 



