FROM EDINBURGH TO THE ANTARCTIC 
63 
tasies, paint colour pictures — attempts to express thought 
rather than form. How they puzzle these critics ! Unlike 
the artistic middle classes, they look at pictures with no 
narrow preconceived notions, and at once recognise there 
is an idea that they cannot quite grasp. Their puzzled 
looks remind me of the expression of a staghound I once 
saw with its fore-feet on a wainscot studying the figures 
in a Fete fliampetre by Watteau. Our second mate, a 
big, energetic, bustling, blue-eyed, light-haired fellow, 
who delights in seeing ropes, spars, and portraits set up 
in a picture, gets quite wild when he sets his eye on 
these things that he feels he can't quite grip. 
(Saturday) i Plum-duff day? — I wish I could relate some 
of the stories we hear at table at meal-times ; all our party 
have seen something of the world abroad, so there is no 
end to them. We have Arctic tales of sport and adven- 
ture, whaling stories naturally being the most popular. 
We had some of the experiences of one of our party this 
morning — a short, obese little man, not a good story- 
teller, but familiar with that strange life up in the north. 
He described the days not long past when the Shetlands 
provided the Dundee and Peterhead ships with their 
crews. The ships put into Lerwick on their way north, 
where agents supplied the men, much as they now supply 
men to the Scotch whalers for the seal-fishing in New- 
foundland in the spring of the year. 
The men's shore debts to these agents, who were store- 
keepers as well, were paid in advance by the shipping 
companies out of the men's wages, and their kit and 
