a great whale to be seen; but th’ iceberg were there, still and grim, as if a hundred ton or more had fallen off all in a mass, and crushed down boat, and fish, and all, into th’ deep water, as goes half through the earth in them latitudes.  Th’ coal-miners round about Newcastle way may come upon our good boat if they mine deep enough, else ne’er another man will see her.  And I left as good a clasp-knife in her as ever I clapt eyes on.’

‘But what a mercy no man stayed in her,’ said Bell.

‘Why, mistress, I reckon we a’ must die some way; and I’d as soon go down into the deep waters as be choked up wi’ moulds.’

‘But it must be so cold,’ said Sylvia, shuddering and giving a little poke to the fire to warm her fancy.

‘Cold!’ said her father, ’what do ye stay-at-homes know about cold, a should like to know?  If yo’d been where a were once, north latitude 81, in such a frost as ye ha’ niver known, no, not i’ deep winter, and it were June i’ them seas, and a whale i’ sight, and a were off in a boat after her:  an’ t’ ill-mannered brute, as soon as she were harpooned, ups wi’ her big awkward tail, and struck t’ boat i’ her stern, and chucks me out into t’ watter.  That were cold, a can tell the’!  First, I smarted all ower me, as if my skin were suddenly stript off me:  and next, ivery bone i’ my body had getten t’ toothache, and there were a great roar i’ my ears, an’ a great dizziness i’ my eyes; an’ t’ boat’s crew kept throwin’ out their oars, an’ a kept clutchin’ at ’em, but a could na’ make out where they was, my eyes dazzled so wi’ t’ cold, an’ I thought I were bound for “kingdom come,” an’ a tried to remember t’ Creed, as a might die a Christian.  But all a could think on was, “What is your name, M or N?” an’ just as a were giving up both words and life, they heaved me aboard.  But, bless ye, they had but one oar; for they’d thrown a’ t’ others after me; so yo’ may reckon, it were some time afore we could reach t’ ship; an’ a’ve heerd tell, a were a precious sight to look on, for my clothes was just hard frozen to me, an’ my hair a’most as big a lump o’ ice as yon iceberg he was a-telling us on; they rubbed me as missus theere were rubbing t’ hams yesterday, and gav’ me brandy; an’ a’ve niver getten t’ frost out o’ my bones for a’ their rubbin’, and a deal o’ brandy as I ‘ave ta’en sin’.  Talk o’ cold! it’s little yo’ women known o’ cold!’

‘But there’s heat, too, i’ some places,’ said Kinraid.  I was once a voyage i’ an American.  They goes for th’ most part south, to where you come round to t’ cold again; and they’ll stay there for three year at a time, if need be, going into winter harbour i’ some o’ th’ Pacific Islands.  Well, we were i’ th’ southern seas, a-seeking for good whaling-ground; and, close on our larboard beam, there were a great wall o’ ice, as much as sixty feet high.  And says our captain—­as were a dare-devil, if ever a man were—­“There’ll be an opening in yon dark gray wall, and into that