“‘The Tailor’ is accordingly given, _con amore_, and is a remarkable history of knight of the thimble, who, burying his goose, like Prospero his books, ‘beyond the reach of plummet,’ becomes a ‘Sailor bold,’ and in that capacity enslaves the heart of a lovely lady of incalculable wealth, who, etc., etc. We all know the rest. ‘Kenneth, you monster, take that clumsy foot of yours off my stomach, will you?’ cried out poor Mr. Bellot, smothered beneath the weight of four-and-twenty legs, upon which the carpenter, in his eagerness to comply, probably drives his foot into Mr. Bellot’s eye. And so, passing the song and the joke around, Mr. Bellot, occasionally making a sudden desperate effort to get up, and sitting down again in despair,—with a long ‘blow’ like a grampus, we make what Anderson calls ‘a night of it.’ No management, however, can make our solitary candle last beyond twelve o’clock, or thereabouts. Notwithstanding this extinguisher to the entertainments of the evening, Mr. Anderson, while some are dozing and hob-a-nobbing in their dreams, may still be heard keeping it up with unabated spirit in the dark, wakening every sleeper now and then with some tremendous chorus he has contrived to get up among his friends, for the ‘Bay of Biscay,’ or some favourite Greenland melody, with its inspiriting burthen of ‘Cheeri-lie, ah! cheeri-lie!’” [Illustration: THE “RESCUE” IN MELVILLE BAY] A warm welcome awaited the lost ones, when a few days later they reached the ship. “With our return to the vessel,” writes Mr. Kennedy, “may be said to have closed all our operations, as far as the ship was concerned, in the Arctic seas for the year 1851. There remained now only to make our arrangements for the vessel passing the next six or eight months where we were, and for preparing for our own winter journeys.” Preparations were completed by January 5, 1852, and the morning of that day the men on snow-shoes, with dogs dragging the sledges, started off amid the cheers of their comrades and the yelping and barking of the dogs.