The sails of the ship, too, flapped very gently, and a spar creaked plaintively, as the vessel rose and fell on the gentle undulations that seemed to be the breathing of the ocean.

But such sounds did not disturb the universal stillness of the hour; neither did the gambols of yonder group of seals and walruses that were at play round some fantastic blocks of ice; nor did the soft murmur of the swell that broke in surf at the foot of yonder iceberg, whose blue sides were seamed with a thousand watercourses, and whose jagged pinnacles rose up like needles of steel into the clear atmosphere.
There were many bergs in sight, of various shapes and sizes, at some distance from the ship, which caused much anxiety to the captain, although they were only a source of admiration to our young friends in the main-top.
"Tom," said Fred, breaking a long silence, "it may seem a strange idea to you, but, do you know, I cannot help fancying that heaven must be something like this." "I'm not sure that that's such a strange idea, Fred, for it has two of the characteristics of heaven in it--peace and rest." "True; that didn't strike me.

Do you know, I wish that it were always calm like this, and that we had no wind at all." Tom smiled.

"Your voyage would be a long one if that were to happen.

I daresay the Esquimaux would join with you in the wish, however, for their kayaks and oomiaks are better adapted for a calm than a stormy sea." "Tom," said Fred, breaking another long silence, "you're very tiresome and stupid to-night, why don't you talk to me ?" "Because this delightful dreamy evening inclines me to think and be silent." "Ah, Tom! that's your chief fault.