I'll shoot him." Several of the sails were split and two hours of the passage were lost by the second mate's nap. The captain thought best to keep a stricter eye on him after this and ordered that the watch on deck should keep out of the forecastle. For a few days they did so, but one by one they tried the experiment of going in there, and finding it created no uproar, they soon got back to old habits. When four weeks out we passed the Orkney Islands and the same afternoon sighted Fair Island off the port bow. We passed within five miles of the Island, and two boats with six men in each pulled off to meet us. The men were small and thin and with only one exception had light complexions and sandy hair and beards. They came on board and begged, in whining tones, to be allowed to exchange their fish for bread and salt meat. After a trade, made very much in their favor, they produced woollen mittens and socks, knitted by the women of the island, and made another trade. These being exhausted they proceeded to beg, with a stock of appeals to charitable motives. When all the clothes had been obtained that seemed likely to be forthcoming, they asked for "rel-ee-gious books and tracts." Two days after this we made the Coast of Norway. Then beating against a head wind for two days more we got through the Skager Rack, passed the Scaw of Denmark, and steered through the Cattegat towards Elsinore. The cook of the ship was a negro--a lazy, dirty fellow he was! Neither the captain nor the officers paid any attention to the state of things in the galley, except that the "old man" gave an occasional admonition to be economical, and "Cuffey" lived in ease and slovenliness. The "grub" was poorly cooked, and scanty at that; and the tea was so weak that when one night "Doctor," as the cook is always called, forgot to put any tea into the coppers, the men drank the warm water and molasses without any idea of the omission. A barrel of beef was intended to last twelve days at least, but owing to the gifts to the Fair Islanders the barrel at this time was about exhausted on the tenth day. The cook thought he could eke it out one day longer, and the consequence was that in the evening, "Bill," a short, stout Nova Scotian, with a very lugubrious countenance, marched aft carrying a large tin pan, containing a very small piece of boiled salt beef. The mate was standing by the weather-rail, just forward of the poop. Bill deposited the pan at his feet. Folding his arms he exclaimed in a very meek and mournful tone, "Mr. Smith, I wish you'd take a belaying pin and beat my brains out." "What good would that do you?" said the mate. "I'd rather die at once than starve to death," the sailor answered. "Who's going to starve you to death?" "We don't get food enough for a dog, let alone a man," said Bill.