Great attention was paid to the important duty of seeing that a proper amount of exercise was taken by every soul on board. Open-air exercise was the more essential to health, because the air we breathed on board was not as pure as might be desired. This was inevitable, and the evil could only be partially counteracted by strict attention to the enforcing of outdoor exercise. A walk was constructed along the floe near the ship, for a distance of half a mile, marked at every two or three yards by small heaps of empty preserved meat tins, placed there by our industrious doctor. We were thus able to take our exercise along this promenade even on the darkest day, and the number of times that each individual walked up and down during the day was proudly recounted at the dinner-table. The darkness prevented walks to any greater distance for a considerable time. This then was our fashionable lounge, and was called the "Ladies' Mile" after the drive of the same name in Hyde Park. Our greatest annoyance was undoubtedly caused by the incessant drip in our cabins and elsewhere on board. So bad was it that all books had to be removed from the shelves, or from any position where they were in contact with the ship's side or the beams overhead. Especially over our beds did we suffer, and could only make certain of a dry night's rest by taking the precaution of nailing a blanket over the bed, or sloping one as an awning! No means that we could devise, although many experiments were tried on the living deck of the men as well as by the officers in their cabins, lessened the condensation from which we suffered, and which increased with any rise of temperature. One officer went so far as to light, and keep burning for a whole day, no less than fifty-two candles and one lamp in his cabin, hoping by these means to dry it thoroughly; but although it answered the purpose for a day or two, at an enormous cost, it was soon as bad as ever. During the time of his _illumination_ he succeeded in raising the temperature of his cabin from 40° to 75°! It is decidedly unpleasant, whilst writing, to have a continual stream of water pouring down upon your head and upon your paper; yet it is impossible to prevent this disagreeable drip. One of my messmates, more fortunate than his brother officers, had brought an umbrella with him, and this being spread over his chair protected him from the wet, and thus enabled him to read or write in comparative comfort, and, what was perhaps of greater consequence, with the perfect preservation of his temper.