Whank!--tick-a-lick!--ker-thump!--swoosh!--Whank!--tick-a-lick!-- ker-thump!--swoosh!--These were the sounds that first greeted my opening ears. So, then, we were fairly under way, advancing, if not rejoicing. Our freighted Icarus was soaring on well-oiled wings: how soon might his waxy pinions droop under the fierce gaze of the sun! At least it was a satisfaction to know that thus far the gloomy forebodings of the Seer had not been fulfilled. On looking out through a six-inch rose-window, I saw joyous daylight dancing over the boundless, placid waters,--not a speck of land in sight. We must have started long since; but my eyes, fast sealed under the opiate rays of the Luminary, had hitherto refused to ope their lids to the garish beams of his rival. Soon I heard beneath a rustling snap, as of a bow, and suddenly there sped forth the twanging shaft of the _First Victim._--I say! _Second Victim._--Very sensible, but brief. Give us another bit. _First Victim._--How are ye this mornin'? _Second Victim._--Utterly glorified. Delicious sleep,--splendid day,--balmy air, with condiments thrown in. I hope you are nicely to-day? _First Victim._--Wal, no, can't say I be. Feel sort o' seedy like,--feel jest 's ef I'd ben creouped up in a sugar-box. Couldn't even git a cat-nap,--didn't sleep a wink. _Second Victim._--That's bad, indeed; but the bracing air here will soon---- _First Victim._--Air! That 'ere dock-smell nigh finished me. No skim-milk smell about that, but the ginooine jam,--an awful pooty nosegay! 'T was reg'lar rank p'is'n. Never see anythin' like it. Oh, 'twas te'ble! Took hold o' my nose dreffle bad; I'm afeard my stomach'll be a goner. 'T wa'n't none o' yer sober perfumes nuther, but kind o' half-seas-over all the time, an' pooty consid'able in the wind. Judge there's ben a large fatality in cats lately. Ugh! that blamed dock-smell! Never forgit it the longest day I live. Don't b'lieve I breathed oncet all night. _Second Victim._--Yes, it was slightly aromatic, I confess,--'Sabaean odors from the spicy shores of Araby the Blest,'--you know what Milton says. But there's one great comfort: this thick night-air is so very healthy, you know. I think you made a very great mistake, Mr. Rink, in not inhaling it thoroughly. I kept pumping it in all night, from a sense of duty, at forty bellows-power. _First Victim._--(Rising, and dragging up to the mountain-crib the artillery of a ghostly face, and training it point-blank at Second Victim.)--Young man, don't trifle!