A SUICIDE AT SEA, 
27 
Fitz .—“ Ugh! ” 
Before the end of the voyage, however, this Job’s 
comforter himself fell ill, and the Doctor amply revenged 
himself by prescribing for him. 
Shortly after this a very melancholy occurrence took 
place. I had observed for some days past, as we pro¬ 
ceeded north, and the nights became shorter, that the 
cock we shipped at Stornaway had become quite 
bewildered on the subject of that meteorological 
phenomenon called the Dawn of Day. In fact, I doubt 
whether he ever slept for more than five minutes at 
a stretch, without waking up in a state of nervous 
agitation, lest it should be cock-crow. At last, when 
night ceased altogether, his constitution could no longer 
stand the shock. He crowed once or twice sarcastically, 
then went melancholy mad: finally, taking a calenture, 
he cackled lowly (probably of green fields), and leaping 
overboard, drowned himself. The mysterious manner in 
which every day a fresh member of his harem used to 
disappear, may also have preyed upon his spirits. 
At last, on the morning of the eighth day, we 
began to look out for land. The weather had greatly 
improved during the night; and, for the first time 
