a firth, some thirty miles off. We are all going, and of course you will go too."

In three hours we reach West Manna Haven, and the whole fleet cheer and shout as they catch sight of the whales. At a distance they look like a bar of great buoys or floats bobbing up and down, as ever and anon they pop up their black, blunt heads to blow and breathe. A line of boats behind them keeps their noses up the firth, and hinders them from turning, and so they are slowly driven up towards the head of the haven. Whenever they try to turn they are frightened back by showers of stones, and by harpoons thrown out on the water and drawn back with a line.

Now the hour of action draws nigh. A double row of boats, amounting to more than a hundred, form a curved line right across the firth, and hem the whales in. Again fresh showers of stones are added to the missiles hurled against them to keep them straight. Now is the turning point of the day, lest the whales, scared by the boats which go in to attack them, should turn flukes, and rush in a body out to sea.

At first we row carefully so that we may not head the whales, rather keeping between them and the ring of boats, from which frequent showers of stones are still hurled. The first blow had been struck before we came up, but we were soon in the midst of the mêlée. The sea became white with foam, as the whales, now scared and diving on all sides, but still keeping up the firth, lash the water with fin and tail.

In an instant our

A big fellow rises close to us. chief has struck him with a harpoon, others grapple him with boat-hooks, and the man nearest his throat draws his long flinching-knife, and plunges it into the blubber, which gives a strange crisp sound as the blade is buried in it up to the hilt. We are close to the poor creature's head, and it turns up its meek eyes in a way to rouse pity in any tender heart. But save our friend's and our own, there are no hearts in that boat to be troubled with the mute appeal of a whale's eye.

Baring his arm to the shoulder, the Lysselmand scores the creature's throat in long gashes. Torrents of blood follow, and the crisp white coat of blubber, which when cut looks more like a watermelon than animal flesh, is soon pierced through. In a trice its throat is cut. Its frantic efforts to escape, during which it hurries us along with it fast, grappled to its side, gradually cease. It turns a little on its side, gives a fling with its tail, and dies. After death the carcass must still be held, as it would sink as soon as the breath was out. It is therefore either buoyed and turned adrift, or handed over to some non-fighting boat to tow ashore. While this has been passing on board our boat, the same thing has been going on with thirty others. -Jest and Earnest.

DICTATION.

Seen, scene; hear, here; great, grate; to, two, too; all, awl; course, coarse; boys, buoys; thrown, throne; hour, our; straight, strait; row, roe; tail, bale; heart, hart; there, their; baring, bearing; through, threw; would, wood.

T

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QUESTIONS.

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Where is Faroe? How many whales were embayed in the firth? How long did the boats take to reach West Manna Haven? What did the whales look like at a distance ? What did they ever and anon do? What did the line of boats behind the whales do? By what means did they frighten the whales? How many boats were there? What did the boats form? What caused the sea to become white with foam? With what did the chief strike the whale? What did others do to him? What did the man nearest his

throat do? What were they close to? What did the whale turn up? In what way? With what were the hearts in the boat not to be troubled? What did the Lysselmand do? Who was the Lysselmand? What does the whale's blubber look like when cut? What was done in a trice? What gradually ceased? What did the whale do before it died? What would become of the carcass if it were not held after the breath was out? What is done with the carcass of the whale? How many fighting-boats were there at this hunt?

LXXX.-NEVER DESPAIR.

NEVER despair! when the dark cloud is lowering,
The sun though obscure never ceases to shine,
Above the black tempest his radiance is pouring,
While faithless and faint-hearted mortals repine.
The journey of life has its lights and its shadows,
And Heaven in its wisdom sends us our own share;
Though rough be the road, yet with reason to guide us,
And courage to conquer, we'll never despair.

Never despair! when with troubles contending,
Make labour and patience a sword and a shield,
And win brighter laurels with courage unbending,
Than ever were gained on the blood-tinted field.
As gay as the lark in the beam of the morning,
When young hearts spring forward to do and to dare,
The bright star of promise their future adorning
Will light them along, and they'll never despair.