although they were only a source of admiration to our young friends in
the main-top.

"Tom," said Fred, breaking a long silence, "it may seem a strange idea
to you, but, do you know, I cannot help fancying that heaven must be
something like this."

"I'm not sure that that's such a strange idea, Fred, for it has two of
the characteristics of heaven in it--peace and rest."

"True; that didn't strike me. Do you know, I wish that it were always
calm like this, and that we had no wind at all."

Tom smiled. "Your voyage would be a long one if that were to happen. I
daresay the Esquimaux would join with you in the wish, however, for
their kayaks and oomiaks are better adapted for a calm than a stormy
sea."

"Tom," said Fred, breaking another long silence, "you're very tiresome
and stupid to-night, why don't you talk to me?"

"Because this delightful dreamy evening inclines me to think and be
silent."

"Ah, Tom! that's your chief fault. You are always inclined to think too
much and to talk too little. Now I, on the contrary, am always--"

"Inclined to talk too much and think too little--eh, Fred?"

"Bah! don't try to be funny, man; you haven't it in you. Did you ever