FROM EDINBURGH TO THE ANTARCTIC 
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our faces and hands. Then we jumped into a boat, well 
pleased with the prospect of our * evening out/ As we 
rowed across to the Norwegian, the whale-guns rigged 
round her bulwarks were going off merrily, and the oakum 
wads smoked on the still water. 
Captain Larsen received us on the poop with Norwegian 
welcome, and we got down into the cabin to the tune 
of "Way down the Swanee River,' played on an organ 
on deck. They really do things well on a Norwegian 
whaler, and it seemed by the variety of provision below 
as if the Jason had just left port the day before. There 
was milk, just like fresh milk, rusks and liqueurs and all 
sorts of good things, and such coffee — nothing to speak 
of in Norway, but what a contrast to our noxious mixture 
on the Balaena ! 
Captain Larsen is a good royalist, and we drank a great 
skald to the king of Gammel Norge, and another to our 
