Three miles away the lights of an eskimo village twinkled through the haze and on the falling breeze we caught the sound of the sweetest singing that had ever fallen on human ears.
It was the song of the workers in the ice fields, harvesting the new crop for our own America!
FOOTNOTES:
[26] A cerf-volant, argent, springing over a barbican, on a field, or. The whole surrounded by a garter. See Peluchet, Hist. des Armoires.
[27] On all my trips I have carried the gun I refer to, a Mannlicher-Schopenhauer, 6 MM, extra heavy. There is nothing compares with it for long range fire. W.E.T.
In home waters. The celebration in our honor. And what of my companions? Reveries and Recollections. The End.