18 
LETTERS FROM HIGH LATITUDES. 
look as little like a seaman as need be. It appeared, 
nevertheless, that the individual in question was 
Mr. Ebenezer Wyse, my new sailing-master; so I 
accepted Captain C.’s strong recommendation as a set¬ 
off against the silk tartan; explained to the new comer 
the position he was to occupy on board, and gave orders 
for sailing in an hour. The multitudinous chain, more¬ 
over, so lavishly displayed, turned out to be an orna¬ 
ment of which Mr. Wyse might well be proud; and 
the following history of its acquisition reconciled me 
more than anything else to my Master’s unnautical 
appearance. 
Some time ago there was a great demand in 
Australia for small river steamers, which certain Scotch 
companies undertook to supply. The difficulty, how¬ 
ever, was to get such fragile tea-kettles across the 
ocean; five started one after another in murderous 
succession, and each came to grief before it got half¬ 
way to the equator; the sixth alone remained with 
which to try a last experiment; should she arrive, 
her price would more than compensate the pecuniary 
loss already sustained, though it could not bring to 
life the hands sacrificed in the mad speculation; by 
