The Dipsey sailed at a much lower depth than when she had first
started upon her submarine way. After they had become accustomed
to the feeling of being surrounded by water, her inmates seemed
to feel a greater sense of security when they were well down
below all possible disturbing influence. When they looked
forward in the line of the search-light, or through any of the
windows in various parts of the vessel, they never saw anything
but water--no fish, nothing floating. They were too far below
the ice above them to see it, and too far from what might be on
either side of them to catch a glimpse of it. The bottom was
deep below them, and it was as though they were moving through an
aqueous atmosphere.

They were comfortable, and beginning to be accustomed to their
surrounding circumstances. The air came in regularly and
steadily through the electric gills, and when deteriorated air
had collected in the expiration-chamber in the upper part of the
vessel, it was forced out by a great piston, which sent it by a
hundred little valves into the surrounding water. Thus the pure
air came in and the refuse air went out just as if the little
Dipsey had been healthfully breathing as it pushed its way
through the depths.

Mrs. Block was gaining flesh. The narrow accommodations, the
everlasting electric light, the sameness of food, and a total
absence of incident had become quite natural to her, and she had
ceased to depend upon the companionship of the dust-brush and the
almanac to carry her mind back to what she considered the real
things of life.