in his, "I did not intend, when I invited you, to make the announcement I am about to make; but, fearing the cup of your enjoyment may not be quite full, I give you this drop from the overrunning measure of my own happiness: ladies and gentlemen, permit me to present to you my wife-that is to be very soon."

There was a perfect shower of applause, under cover of which Maitland said to Miss Gordon:

"Didn't I tell you so?" To which she replied, sotto voce:

"I never would have believed she was so artful; a perfectly shameless little flirt!"

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"Mr. Travers," said Nell Coblentz, may I relieve my feelings by embracing you? I don't know as it is the proper thing to do, but I must do something or go mad." And throwing her arms about Annie's neck, she kissed her till she was quite out of breath.

"That is backing down, Nell!" exclaimed Maitland.

"O, of course, I meant by proxy," she retorted; "only if there is any man on the face of the globe that I really should like to embrace at this particular moment, it is Mr. Travers. But I shan't do it; my powers of self-control are something marvellous." And from under her lowered lids she cast a quick keen glance at Frederick Emerson, who colored to the roots of his beautiful chestnut hair.

Annie did not return with the rest of the party, but came an hour later in Mr. Travers's best carriage, drawn by the lovely gray span which was the admiration and envy of all Carmel.

Mr. Travers walked straight to her mother's room with her. "We have come for your blessing," he said.

She took her daughter's face between her hands, and looked down into it with anxious eyes. Annie saw it, and knew what she was thinking of.

"Your girl is very happy, dear motherso much happier than she deserves, or ever can deserve," she said, with a fond shy glance at her companion. "There has been a mistake all round, and some playing at cross purposes, but it is all over now."

"I am so glad!" Mrs. Atherton said, in a tone of joyous relief. "O Annie, my precious darling! if my taking summer boarders had shipwrecked your happiness, I should never have forgiven myself.”

"My happiness is in such safe hands, dear mother, that all the summer boarders in the world cannot so much as touch it," was the confident answer.

A few days later Mr. Emerson announced his resolution to take a trip West. He had had letters, he said, urging him to come, and there never would be a better time, perhaps. He should get through his visit and be back to the city by the time they returned. There were the usual regrets, but his resolution remained unshaken; and as he was to leave early, he made his adieus the evening before his intended departure, that is, to all but Nellie Coblentz. She was in her room and staid there persistently all the evening.

She came down to breakfast about ten o'clock, asked carelessly if Emerson had gone, and ate her breakfast in such an abstracted, indolent way, that Mrs. Atherton asked her if she were sick.

"I don't know. I shouldn't wonder," she answered, laughing lightly. "I never was sick, as I remember; how does one feel, good or bad?"

Mrs. Atherton laughed, and Nell went up stairs; half an hour later she came down equipped for a walk.

"Where are you going, Nellie ?" asked her father, as she stooped over, and, putting both hands over his eyes, kissed him, as she was going past.

"O, only out to drown myself, papa. If I am not home by tea-time, draw off the spring brook." Referring to a shallow pebbly-bottomed brook, less than a foot deep, which ran through the meadow at the foot of the orchard.

"Nellie, what a little incorrigible you are!" he answered, laughing.

"But you rather like me, though, don't you?" she said, coaxingly, laying her bright face against his shoulder. "And, papa, if I should get drowned, or—or anything-you wont forget me, will you, you old darling?"

With a sudden impulse Mr. Coblentz put both arms about his daughter and kissed her tenderly. A moment later and she was waying her handkerchief to him from the street below.

As it grew late in the afternoon there was a general inquiry for Nellie Coblentz. Lena and her mother had been to ride, and so had not missed her. Finally tea-time came, but still Nellie had not returned. They waited, at first vexed and impatient, but gradually growing alarmed and uneasy. Just as Mr.

Coblentz, was starting out, however, a boy came up from the village with a letter, say ing that a young woman at the depot gave him a quarter to bring it there.

end of it. I always expected she would do something dreadful."

In order that the reader may fully understand the "dreadful" thing which Nell had

"Just before three o'clock, sir; she went out in the three o'clock train," replied the boy.

"Why did you not come immediately?" he asked, with warmth.

66

'Because, sir, the young lady said as how I needn't come up till after supper, and I obeyed orders."

There was no more to be said, and as the lad turned away, Mr. Coblentz broke open the letter, which was as follows:

"DEAR PAPA,-I have concluded to run away. Please do not send a detective after me and get my name in the papers. It wouldn't be pleasant, you know. NELL."

"What wild freak is that girl up to now?" Mr. Coblentz said, half angry, half amused.

"She has taken the whim to go to town, undoubtedly, and will be back to-morrow. There never was any accounting for Nell's caprices," her mother said, smilingly, yet looking a little vexed.

But Nell did not come back the next day, nor the next. The fourth day Mr. Coblentz went to the city. He expected, of course, Nellie was at home, but he remembered she did not look quite well, and Mrs. Atherton had narrated her conversation with her at the breakfast table, and he got anxious, fearing she was at home ill and alone, save the housekeeper, who had been left in charge.

So he went down.

They did not expect him back till night, but a little past noon he came in, and quietly called his wife and Lena aside.

"Just read that," he said, putting a letter in his wife's hand. "I found it in the office on my return."

Mrs. Coblentz unfolded the paper, and as her eye glanced at the bottom of the sheet she gave a low cry and grew deadly pale.

"Hush, Marie! don't make a scene, for Heaven's sake!" her husband whispered; "it will be bad enough, at the best. I suppose we must tell Miss Converse ?"

"Yes, I suppose so," she sighed. "O Arthur, I wish the earth would open and swallow us all up! Just think of the dreadful notoriety," she added, in a distressed voice. "You always allowed Nell to do and say improper things," said Lena, "and this is the

gentleman's hand, and as follows:

"MR. ARTHUR COBLENTZ:

"DEAR SIR,-I was married to your daughter Nellie four days ago-the evening of her departure from Mrs. Atherton's. I know how shocked you will all be, and I have no excuse to offer save this: I loved her almost to madness! I have battled with myself, calling upon honor, interest, everything, to help me overcome my passion, but the contest was too unequal, for love is all-conquering. I have been an idler hitherto, now I can overcome anything! In this new country I am going to begin a new life, with God's help, and that of my darling wife's. I do not ask you to forgive me yet, but some day, if I live, you shall be proud to acknowledge me your son. FREDERICK EMERSON."

To which was appended this characteristic postscript from Nellie:

"DEARLY BELOVED,-Fred and I have at last concluded a truce-under the flag of our union! At last order reigns in Warsaw. I hope you will all be as glad about it as I, for the siege has been a long and hard one on both sides. We happened to discover how hard, and mutually resolved to bury the hatchet and light the torch of peace at Hymen's altar.

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Dear, dear old papa! Forgive me for all the pain or anxiety I have ever caused you, and especially this last crowning act. I do not seek to justify myself; I only say this: For his sake I am willing to give up everything else on earth; even your dear love. You all thought me gay, keen, careless and heart whole-alas, how have the mighty fallen! I am only a silly, sentimental, commonish sort of a woman, and am going to learn to make butter, and cheese, and brown bread, and settle down into a staid respectable matron. I'll let you know when I do!

"NELL."

The Coblentzes immediately returned to the city, and in a week the rest of the party followed. If Miss Converse was pained by the desertion of her betrothed, no one ever knew. She had a rare faculty of keeping her own counsel, as well as her self-control. She neither grew pale, refused her meals, nor laid awake to weep, as, according to all respectable precedent, she ought to have done; and, as I shall not have another so good an opportunity, I will add here that she married a wealthy suitor, whom she had twice rejected, in less than three months after her return to the city, and it is to be hoped "lived happy ever after."

"If anybody wants summer boarders, they

are welcome to them, so far as I am concerned," Mrs. Atherton said, when the last ones had taken their departure.

"It has been an incalculable blessing to me, for if I hadn't got so desperately jealous of Emerson, I never should have dared to propose, I was such an old grave fellow, and

Annie was so young and beautiful," John Travers said, coming in just then.

"O John!" exclaimed Annie, in a deprecating voice, blushing as brightly as the crimson fuchsias hiding among her bright brown curls. "If only you had done it before," she added archly.

"Remarkable spot for a grave, Why, it's hardly fit for a knave!" Jes so, stranger! but knowing the facts, you will own

The derned critter in thar really aint worth a stone.

"That is an unfortunate fate,

Pray, will you the story relate?" Sartin, stranger, jes step in my cabin hard by; Fer afore I commence, I must wet up with rye.

"You are, then, addicted to drink?" Some, stranger! miners are, I think. But le' me see, seems to me 'tis nearly er year Since Blowin' Dave, the buried critter come here.

We had a nice clearin' here then

A purty good sprinklin' o' men,

An' miners' wives, whose faces war like the sun's beams,

Makin' our rough life here, sir, one o' pleasant dreams.

A deal o' influence they had

Savin' us from goin' to the bad;

Fer I tell yer the presence o' women here, sir, Exerts over our life heaps o' good, that's clear, sir.

A year nearly since Dave come down,
Bringin' his wife from "Up Dutch Town."

A sensible, low-browed, purty woman was she,
An' I reckon as good as a woman could be.

Fer a while they lived here as well
As the best, fer all we could tell.

Yet, there was sometimes a rumor here in the claim,

That Dave, tho' clever outside, in his cabin wasn't the same.

She was an angel, was Dave's mate,
The sick servin' early an' late,

An' when I tell yer, sir, she was worshipped by us.

These tales o' Dave's treatment rather brooded

a muss.

Some purty hard stories at length Reached us, givin' color and strength To the pictures by some drawn o' Dave's cabin life,

How the brute made his home one continual strife.

'Bout a year, if I recollect,

'Fore the chaps begun to suspect

By the absence o' Dave's mate in the cabins around;

That some'at had happened, then the stories gained ground.

So, fer Dave's we started one night,

Just to see if things thar war right; Tho' to reach it, stranger, were a purty hard push,

"

Seein' 's he liked fer some reason to live out'n the bush.

Which (the reason) was plain to see
Any time out thar he could spree,

Did he?" Well, he did just that, stranger! tho' 'twant all,

He done a thing worse nor that, that thing caused his fall.

"What thing?" murder! aint that plain,hey! You bet, we just had our way.

When we caught the heathen on this bit o' swamp like,

We just made a grave fer him in that thar wet dike.

This way it happened, we suppose-
Rum was in, sense was out, an' blows

From his fist-an iron fist was Dave's-on her brow,

Why, sir, just closin' my eyes, I can see 'em plain now.

"Lynched him?" yes! we call it so here, An' it's honest judgment, that's clear To my mind, that's me! now you've heard the yarn 'bout Dave,

An' why he came to be put in that thar wet grave.

WE had fastened to a large right-whale in Bristol Bay, north of the island of Oonalashka, the distant outlines of its mountains being in sight from the ship at the time. She turned to windward and ran us for several hours, seeming to retain her full vigor, and only abating her racing-speed now and then for a few minutes.

In addition to numerous wounds from the hand-lances, such as might have been expected to kill any ordinary whale, she had endured the explosion of three bombs in her body. Her "small" had also been mangled by repeated cuts of the boat-spades, till it seemed that all the great sinews must have been severed.

But victory at last declared for our banners; the fourth shot from the lance-gun appeared to reach the vital spot which had hitherto escaped our efforts, and the mighty mass showed signs of speedy dissolution. Tired, drenched and shivering, our cheers of triumph rent the air for the "red flag," as the next trumpet-blast of our giant victim was choked by a rushing torrent of her life-blood. We congratulated each other upon having secured so rich a prize, for we estimated her yield of oil at not less than one hundred and fifty barrels.

She rolled her breast up to the surface; the broad pectoral fins lifted with a last dying quiver, and fell against her sides. The angry, boiling waters closed over all; a fearful strain was suddenly felt upon our sides; and a quick surge at the loggerhead alone saved us from being engulfed.

The two boats were brought abreast, gunwale to gunwale, with the oars shipped in; the weight of the crews thrown more aft to balance the strain; the lines snubbed till the bows were brought down to the very point of submersion; but all was useless. The immutable law of gravity and displacement was against us this time.

"Stand by to cut!" said the mate to the officer in the other boat, at the same time drawing the boat-knife from its sheath.

"No! Hold your hands!" roared the captain, whose boat had just got within hailing distance. He had been for two hours engaged in verifying the proverb that a stern

66

chase is a long one," and was still straining every nerve to be "in at the death." He was heaving desperately in aid of his stroke-oarsman, with his hat off, his hair flying wildly behind him in the breeze, and his whole frame writhing with excitement. "Don't cut, Mr. Barrett! Veer away on your lines and let her go to bottom. I'll go aboard and work the ship as near to you as I can. There aren't more than thirty fathoms of water here."

The light boats regained their trim with a sudden recoil, as the turns were thrown off the loggerheads, and the lines suffered to spin out through the chocks till they hung slack, indicating that the whale lay on the bottom.

Our late triumphant cheers were changed to gloomy mutterings, interspersed with bitter expletives of disappointment. Our risks and toils had been endured in vain; for there was little hope that we should be any the richer for our day's work.

The ship, meanwhile, was so skillfully handled that her way was stopped within a few fathoms of us, and the anchor let go in thirtytwo fathoms. The two lines were then led on board through a large cleet near the bow, the sails furled, and everything made snug. No more could be done for the day; and, having changed our water-logged garments for dry ones, and satisfied our ravenous hunger, we prepared to await the result with what patience we might. Everything depended on the weather, which at the time was light and foggy, with a comparatively smooth sea.

Occurrences like this which I have described form the most serious drawback to the success of the right-whaleman. It is no unusual thing for a single ship to lose several hundred barrels of oil in a season, by the whales sinking after they had been killed. If this occur on soundings, it is sometimes possible, under very favorable circumstances, to bring one to the surface, and secure him; though so much loss of time is involved, that it is generally thought best, if the weather be clear, to abandon him, and cruise in search of another. If in deep water, there is no alternative but to cut lines, pocket our vexation and try again.

The specific gravity of the animal, when first killed, is very nearly the same as that of the element in which he hangs suspended. For the whale floats in the water instead of on it, as he is often falsely represented in pictures. The ideal leviathan of the artist would seem to be a hollow body, inflated; or at least, composed of some material like cork. On the contrary, it hangs so nicely balanced, that in some cases, a very slight matter, such as an accidental shock, a downward inclination of one end of the body, or an escape of confined air at lance-holes or other openings, is sufficient to turn the scale and send it to the bottom. And this, after having, apparently, floated with sufficient buoyancy at the moment of death.

The reason of the difference in the specific gravities of different individuals of the same species, has, thus far, baffled the whaleman's philosophy. He has no means of determining beforehand as to the chances in any particular case, nor of guarding against so disheartening a result. Of course there are multitudinous theories, but none has yet been found infallible. Many an old whaleman has tried to evolve a rule from the result of his observations in several cases; but it has failed him when he least expected it. It is easy for an old knight of the lance to say, "I knew that whale was going to sink by his actions before he turned up." But we shall find him of such wonderful foresight, pointing out the same "actions" in the next specimen, and prophesying a similar result-to be most delightfully disappointed a few minutes later. Comparative fatness appears to have nothing whatever to do with the chances of sinking or floating. For those which sink and are recovered, having risen again by the operation of natural causes, are found to be in as good condition as any others. While on the other hand, very lean specimens, and even those known as "dryskins," are quite as liable to float.

At the time of the introduction of the bomb-lance, which is simply a hollow cone, or rather pointed cylinder of cast-iron, filled with powder, and fired from a heavy shouldergun, it was thought that one of its advantages might lie in this direction. But, although a most valuable invention for other reasons, it does not appear to have produced any results in the way of diminishing the loss of whales from this cause.

The bowhead or polar whale occasionally sinks, but the liability is much less than in

the case of the right-whale. The instances of sinking sperm whales are very rare, compared with either of the others. Again, the black-fish, which possesses more points of resemblance than any other member of the cetaceous family to the sperm whale, and like it, carries a reservoir of oily matter in its head, almost always sinks. Not so heavily, however, but that, being a smaller animal, it can, in most cases, be held up by a boat. But there seems no rule without exceptions; for occasionally one is killed which, left to itself, swims quite buoyantly. The proportion of "sinkers" among a given number of humpback whales, is even greater than of rightwhales. The same is true of the finback, so far as we have opportunities for observation; though very few of this species are killed.

I have been led into a long digression; but I have not forgotten that I left our ship anchored in Bristol Bay, and that her prize was anchored alongside of her-but at the wrong end of the cable. Light winds and fog prevailed all night and throughout the next day. But the second night, the breeze strengthened, and a chop" was getting up, that made the captain impatient to be doing something. He could restrain himself no longer, after daylight arrived.

"Call all hands, Mr. Barrett!" said he, "and 'snatch' the lines and heave away. He's been down more than thirty-six hours now; he ought to begin to grow lighter."

The ends of the lines were carried aloft and led through snatch-blocks at the foremast head. They were brought down to the windlass, and the strain made to bear as equally as possible upon both. The tough little ropes, not an inch in diameter, stretched and narrowed under the tension, till they seemed reduced to half that size; but we soon became satisfied that we were really lifting the whole mass by these two little strings, which appeared such a disproportion of means to the end.

The movement of the windlass-brakes was slow and regular, while the captain himself stood with a hand on each of the lines, now stiffened like wires; for it was all-important to equalize the strain. Inch by inch the ponderous mass was lifted, of course growing lighter as it neared the surface. But when the glistening "blackskin" came in sight alongside the ship, it seemed as if something must snap-either the lines, or the harpoons to which they were attached.

A cheer burst from the men, but was in