(Signed) RACONEVIPADECA, President of the “Pack Loafers.” LECOINTWHISKY, Minister of the Land of Beautiful Women, and “Lady Specialist.” CHAPTER XIX THE FADING DAYS OF THE AUTUMN (CONTINUED) April 10.--Yesterday the wind was from the east and it came with a maddening hiss. To-day it is from the south, still, sharp, and icy. There is a great commotion in the ice. Old leads have again opened and widened, new fissures have formed, and there is a distinct swell noticeable in the steady, regular shift of the ice-floes. About the ship the ice is much crevassed, and less than one hundred yards away there is opening a new lead, which is now forty feet wide. We saw in this lead two finback whales and several seals. Seals and whales have been heard blowing most of the day. While taking a usual evening excursion over the floes I saw, to-night, two distinct fragments of an arc aurora in the south-east. The thing remarkable about this aurora was its colour. It began as two faint, luminous patches, crescentic in form. There was a rapid play of light in these from a pale, pearly glow to a vivid cream color, but the most wonderful of all was the glistening green shade to which it changed for a few seconds just before it disappeared. The same aurora reappeared at about half-past eight in the evening, but it was white and dull. It is Easter Sunday. We have been up most of the night trying to settle the many disputes which have arisen out of the “beauty contest.” It is so long since we have seen a girl that I doubt our ability to pass judgment on the charms of beautiful women. On the whole, though, we have not come to any definite conclusions except that the Princess de Chimay and Cleo de Merode are voted by the majority to be the world’s most beautiful women. The excitement of the contest has been such that a new life and a new stream of ideas are coming over our frosty spirits. To-day we talk of sweethearts, of sisters, of mothers, and of home. For a time we have forgotten the never ceasing sameness of storm-beaten pack-ice and our uncertain future. Our minds and our hearts are homeward, and it is a good change in the drift of sentiments. We can ill afford to go into the spell of the long, unknowable night with the air of despondency which has fogged our mental energy for the past few weeks. Easter Sunday should bring new joys and the poetry of the budding passions of spring. The artificial hilarity of last night has placed us in an easy mood for a new period of fresh pleasures.