Chapter 17 AN ARCTIC CHRISTMAS.

"So now is come our joyful'st feast,

Let every man be jolly,

Eache roome with yvie leaves is drest,

And every post with holly;

Now all our neighbours' chimneys smoke,

And Christmas blocks are burning;

Their ovens they with baked meats choke,

And all their spits are turning.

Without the door let sorrow lie,

And if, for col