A top-gallant-sail, on which were painted several blue cracks, and some strong white lights did duty for an iceberg, and filled up the whole back of the scene.

In front of this, in the centre of the stage, on an extemporized hummock, sat Peter Grim, as the Giant Blunderbore.
His colossal proportions were enhanced by the addition of an entire white bear-skin to his ordinary hairy dress, and which was thrown round his broad shoulders in the form of a tippet.

A broad scarlet sash was tied round his waist, and a crown of brown paper painted in alternate diamonds of blue, red, and yellow sat upon his brow.

Grim was in truth a magnificent-looking fellow, with his black beard and moustache; and the mock-heroic frown with which he gazed up (as one of the audience suggested) at the aurora borealis, while he grasped an enormous club in his right hand, became him well.
The first few seconds of dead silence with which this was received were succeeded by a long and loud burst of applause, the heartiness of which plainly showed that the scene far exceeded the expectations of the men.
"Bravo!" cried the captain, "excellent! nothing could be better." "It beats natur', quite," said one.
"All to sticks," cried another.
"And wot a _tree_-mendous giant he makes.

Three cheers for Peter Grim, lads!" Three cheers were promptly given with right goodwill, but the giant did not move a muscle.