The costumes were, of course, a subject of much discussion and deep interest. The making up of dresses, and the manufacture of wigs from musk-ox skins and oakum, sorely taxed our ingenuity and employed minds and fingers that had hitherto been strangers to such occupations. Many were the needles broken, and many were the fingers pricked, before our ideal costumes were realized. Eiderdown quilts had to be converted into the robes of a lovely oriental princess; old uniform coats were beautified with spangles and tinsel, and appeared as the fashionable habiliments of a dandy of the seventeenth century; whilst a wicked magician, of the Hebrew persuasion, appeared in a coat of unmistakeable clerical cut. Egerton was an indefatigable stage manager, and the scenic arrangements under the direction of Moss, who was also the artist, could not be excelled. Aldrich at the piano (as our orchestra) was a host in himself, adding materially to the success of the entertainments. In fact, officers and men vied with each other in their endeavours to promote amusement and hilarity, and if their histrionic abilities were not of the highest order, the zeal and energy of the actors fully compensated for this deficiency. We enjoyed a rare freedom from harsh ill-natured critics. These pests do not venture across the Arctic Circle. All who visited the Royal Arctic Theatre (re-opened after a lapse of twenty-one years) came with a firm resolve to please or be pleased. Acting upon this determination, our entertainments were bound to be successful. The following prologue, composed for the occasion by Pullen, was spoken at the opening of our theatre, on Thursday, the 18th of November, 1875. "Kind friends, with kindly greetings met to-day, We bid you welcome to our opening play: You, whose indulgent smile forbids the fear Of scornful wit or captious critic here. To-day we welcome you, and not to-night, For all is noon with us--all summer bright; And though the southern sun has ceased to pour His glittering rays upon our ice-bound shore-- Has ceased awhile to touch with drops of gold The crystal corners of our hummocks bold; We bear a warm soft light that never fades-- A lustrous light amid these Greenland shades; All trustful of each other's love, we learn With steady flame our lamp of Hope to burn; And suns may set, and twilights disappear-- They shall not rob us of our Christmas cheer; Nor blinding drift, nor frozen wave, shall chill Our laughter glad--for laugh, brave boys, we will; Kindling yet once again the genial glow Of happy English homes on Arctic floe.