Doctor Jones' Picnic

by S. E. Chapman

"There is our exact position now, Doctor," and he placed the point of a pencil on the map of Labrador.

"In forty-eight hours we will be within the Arctics at this rate of speed," cried Dr. Jones, rubbing his hands with delight.

The face of the country was so uninteresting and monotonous, covered more or less with snow, that the voyagers became tired of looking at it, and turned their attention to various pursuits within the cabin. Becoming tired of music, they read, played games, conversed, etc.

The Doctor and Professor were each expert chess players, and their games were long and closely contested. Victory perched about as often upon the banner of one as the other.

Fred worked daily upon a composition which he entitled "The North Pole March," and declared that the music should be played by himself, while the rest of the company marched around the aluminum flagstaff, after its erection at the summit of the earth, the North Pole. The two ladies were greatly interested in Fred's composition, and hummed and sang it with him, offering suggestions here and there that were of more or less benefit to him.

Denison and Will spent their time attending to the springs, watching the thermometers and barometer. This, however, occupied but little of their leisure, and they played many games of checkers and backgammon. Will took an occasional snapshot with his camera when he saw anything of interest. He had taken some excellent photographs of Silver Cloud and company, which he had left with the Barton family. Who can doubt that they were an unfailing source of delight and tender remembrance to this intelligent and interesting family, as they sat about their great fireplace during the long winter nights. And the artist had taken some sketches of Constance House and inhabitants, which he had brought with him. He had converted one of the spare bedrooms into a studio, and spent an hour or two daily upon a portrait in oil of Jennie Barton. The fact of the matter is, the unadorned beauty and grace of the lovely Jennie had touched his artistic taste beyond anything that he had ever experienced in his life. And away deep in his heart, almost unknown to himself, was a determination to spend a summer season at Constance House, as soon after their return from the Pole as possible.

Silver Cloud all this time was hastening with the speed of a carrier pigeon, nearly due north. Dr. Jones and Professor Gray could not repress their satisfaction each day as their observations showed them to be moving straight as an arrow toward the object of their journey. The altitude they maintained was very little more or less than three thousand feet, and the wind continued from the south at the rate of twenty or thirty miles per hour. The outside temperature was balmy and bracing during the day, so that the balcony afforded them a splendid promenade, where they spent hours daily, exercising in walking round and round the spacious cabin, and studying the topography of the country. Frequent trips were also made to the observatory, and sitting there with the windows open was very inspiring, as well as comfortable. To thus sit in so elevated a place with the windows wide open, while in a state of perspiration, the result of climbing the long stairway, would seem to have been the height of imprudence. But we must remember that such a thing as a breeze or draft of air was never felt on board the Silver Cloud while in motion. The great ship went exactly with the wind, and at precisely the same rate of speed. So, whether the wind blew one or a hundred miles an hour, it was always a dead calm aboard the Silver Cloud.

"This is the ideal place for all catarrhal and pulmonary cases," declared Dr. Jones. "I shall always prescribe a trip in Silver Cloud for this class of patients hereafter."

"I fully believe in its efficacy," said Professor Gray. "But I fear that it will be too expensive a prescription for many of your poor patients."

"That's the trouble, that's the trouble," assented the Doctor, shaking his head sadly. "Millions are yearly dying that might be saved by this and other means on the same line. But the blindness and selfishness of mankind is so absolute and infernal that but little philanthropic work of this sort can be done. There are some noble exceptions, or we should have suffered the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah long since."