160 
LETTERS FROM HIGH LATITUDES. 
of tlie island, I am now in a position to deny; 
and I liere declare that, as far as I had the indiscretion 
to observe, those maligned ladies appeared to me as 
buxom in form as any rosy English girl I have ever 
seen. 
It was nearly nine o’clock before we adjourned 
from the “Heine Hortense ” to the ball. Already, for some 
time past, boats full of gay dresses had been passing 
under the corvette’s stern on their way to the “ Artemise" 
looking like flower-beds that had put to sea,—though 
they certainly could no longer be called a parterre ;— 
and by the time we ourselves mounted her lofty sides, a 
mingled stream of music, light, and silver laughter, was 
pouring out of every port-hole. The ball-room was 
very prettily arranged. The upper-deck had been 
closed in with a lofty roof of canvas, from which hung 
suspended glittering lustres, formed by bayonets with 
their points collected into an inverted pyramid, and 
the but-ends serving as sockets for the tapers. Every 
wall was gay with flags,—the frigate’s frowning arma¬ 
ment all hid or turned to ladies’ uses: 82-pounders 
became sofas — boarding-pikes, balustrades — pistols, 
candlesticks-—the brass carronades set on end, pillar- 
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