in the men’s quarters, as well as the Eskimo dogs, and even “Nellie,” the black retriever, suffered from epileptiform fits. Before winter was over, Pops got so strangely feeble that she could not spring upon a chair without several efforts; but when summer came, and we got her a little fresh meat, she recovered perfectly, and returned with us in safety to England. After dinner was a quiet time to write up journal, to read, or to work at some experiment or observation. Certain instruments had to be registered every hour, and sometimes even every ten minutes, day and night, and fair registers of such observations occupy not a little time. One or two who have work to do at night put in a couple of hours’ comfortable sleep before tea is announced at six o’clock. Then follows school on the lower deck. When it is over, and the officers have dismissed their pupils, the musician of our mess, whose good fellowship is equal to his skill, treats us to a little of his exhaustless fund of music. Strange to say, our piano still keeps excellent tune in spite of the heavy seas that swept the wardroom crossing the Atlantic, and many a severe freezing since. A game of chess, or a rubber in the captain’s cabin, concludes the evening. [Illustration: PLATE VII.—WINTER QUARTERS _INSIDE_ H.M.S. “ALERT”—THE WARDROOM—p. 43. The warmth and comfort inside the ship were a strong contrast to the chill loneliness outside. In the snug lamplight of the wardroom, with a journal to be written up, or a book from the well-stocked shelves behind the door, it was easy to forget that only a few planks and a bank of snow shut out a thousand miles of darkness and deadly cold.]