JUBILEE — A SI PAR. 
419 
woman, and child, knife in hand, squatting cross-legged 
around a formidable joint,—say forty pounds,—and, 
without waiting for the tardy coction of the lamp, 
falling to like college commoners after grace. I have 
seen many such feeds. Hans’s account, however, of 
the glutton-festival at Etah is too characteristic to be 
omitted. 
“Why, Cappen Ken, sir, even the children ate all 
night:—you know the little two-year-old that Awiu 
carried in her hood—the one that bit you, when you 
tickled it?—yes. Well, Cappen Ken, sir, that baby cut 
for herself, with a knife made out of an iron hoop and 
so heavy that it could barely lift it, and cut and ate, 
and ate and cut, as long as I looked at it.” 
“Well, Hans, try now and think; for I want an ac¬ 
curate answer: how much as to weight or quantity 
would you say that child ate ?” Hans is an exact and 
truthful man: he pondered a little and said that he 
could not answer my question. “But I know this, sir, 
that it ate a sipcilc '—the Esquimaux name for the lump 
which is cut off close to the lips—“as large as its own 
head; and three hours afterward, when I went to bed, 
it was cutting off another lump and eating still.”—A 
sipak, like the Dutch governor’s foot, is, however, a 
varying unit of weight. 
