“You must know that there are two kinds of cotton――the short staple, or _upland cotton_, and the long staple, or _sea island_. The latter is the best, and our bale was of that sort. Of course, we, being of the aristocratic class, were proud of our descent; and, while we supposed the vulgar upland would be worked up into shirtings and sheetings, or, perhaps, cheap calicoes, we expected to be treated according to our quality, by being wrought into delicate muslins or cambrics for the fair. So it chanced, as you shall see, if you will peruse the next chapter.” [To be continued.] ―――― THE SEA.――From the great depths which have been actually ascertained in some places, and the great extent of sea in which no bottom has been found, we may conclude that we are under the estimate when, including banks and shallows, we allow one mile in depth for the whole. Even this gives us a most enormous quantity of water; a quantity which, estimated in tons weight, we have the entire quantity of sea water, with all its saline ingredients, amounting to the enormous weight of 600,000,000,000,000,000, (six hundred thousand billions of tons.) Of this enormous quantity, between three and four per cent. consists of different saline ingredients, and the rest of pure water; so that water in the sea available for the purposes of animal and vegetable life, the supply of springs and rivers, and all other purposes for which water is needed in the economy of the land, amounts to five hundred and eighty thousand billions of tons; and the quantity of salt, at least of saline ingredients, to about twenty thousand billions of tons. [Illustration] Snow-balling. “Hurrah, boys――school’s out! come! let’s choose sides and have a snow-balling!” At this challenge, the boys divide into two groups, and at it they go. It is capital sport――for while it gives an opportunity for the display of skill and power in hurling the missiles, it causes no broken bones――no bloody noses――no peeled shins――no black eyes. It is the very mildest, merriest, and most harmless of all fighting. A snow-ball pat in the face draws no “claret,” begets no bad blood, and only provokes a retaliation, in kind, perchance inciting the hit warrior to squeeze his ball a little harder and send it back with redoubled, but still harmless _vim_.