An Iceland Fisherman

indthat the sailors call a dead calm; in other words, in the air no

atonce, liquid designs played over the surface, such light evanescentrings as one forms by breathing on a mirror. The sheen of the watersseemed covered with a net of faint patterns, which intermingled andreformed, rapidly disappearing. Everlasting night or everl

ver and overagain, trying to put fresh spirit into them each time. Their cheekswere rosy under the sharp freshness of the morning: the pure air theybreathed was strengthening, and they inhaled it deep down in theirchests, the very fountain of all vigorous e

, could be plainly distinguished through thetransparency, myriads upon myriads of fish, all alike, gliding slowlyin the same direction, as if bent towards the goal of their perpetualtravels. They were cod, performing their evol

heen of their silvered sides; and thesame movement was repeated throughout the entire shoal by slowund

low, and its outer rimbecame more clear and solid. Now it could be looked straight at, as ifit were but the moon. Yet it still gave out light and looked quitenear in the immensi

greedyspring; then, feeling themselves hooked, wriggled about, as if to hookthemselves still firmer. And every moment, with rapid

sails, unfurled for mereform's sake, considering there was no breeze. They were like clearwhite outlines upon t

was no na

Francois,Jean Francois!"So they

whether or no he was ha

he contrary, he was rather distant with the others andproud and disdainful--very willi

psoff, singing another, a dirge--a clashing of sleepiness, health, an

those who needed sleep. They required but little air to sleep; indeed,less robust fellows, brought up in towns, would have wanted more. Th

ndly and peacefully without

tible object, far offon the horizon, some faint smoke rising from the waters like a tinyjot of another

nd."This faint smoke brought news of home to the sailors, and amongothers, a letter we wrote of, from an old grandam, written by the handof a beau

anched off like a coraltree; all very rapidly with a low murmur; it was like a signal ofawakening foretelling the end of this intense torpor. The sky, itsveil being rent asunder, grew clear; the vapours fell down on thehorizon, massing in heaps l

nch smacks in the vicinity, from Brittany, Normandy, Boulogne, orDunkirk. Like birds flocking to a call, they assembled round thecruiser; from

spread out their sails to thenew and coo

ld fain come near themalso; showing her great mo

mists. Thesun, sinking low, seemed incapable of ever rising over all things,though glowing through this phantom island so tangible that it seemedplaced in front of it. Incomprehensible

anders. From all boats were lowered, like so many nut-shells, andconveyed

or; remedies for pettyailments, materials f

urse. When the narrow deck of the cruiser wasblocked-up by four or five of these hulking fellows, stretched outwith the bilboes round their feet, the

/La Marie/, Captain Guermeur"; one addressed to"Monsieur Gaos, Yann," the other to "Monsieu

s, which were notalways written very skilfully, while the captain kept on saying: "Lookalive there, look alive! the baromet

ing above the horizon,still like a dead luminary. Sitting together, a little to one side, ina retired nook of the deck,

he had not her like for amusing the absent ones you willremember; and the last paragraph concerning him came up: the "word ofgreeting to y

ll whose hand had traced it, turned aside,shrugging his shoulders,

r marry. But what on earth can he haveto say against her?"Midnight was struck on the cruiser's bell. And yet our couple remainedsitting there, thinking of home, the absent