of a hill, flanked on both sides by rivers flowing into a fjord, which takes its name from the village. Here we were once again in communication with the outside world. We paid off our men, who set off back to their homes by the way we had come. They had no loads, but their pockets were heavy, their pay being in silver, and their hearts were glad, while as to their heads I am afraid they were lighter even than usual, for until Kola was reached the men had long abstained from vodka.

We found plenty to interest us during the two days which we spent in Kola while waiting for a steamer to take us down the fjord. Most of the inhabitants were away fishing on the Murman coast, but the people who were left were very nice, and a great contrast to the peasants of Kandalax. They seemed to be happily influenced by their proximity with Norway. little boy to whom I gave a copek for bringing me a telegram, took off his hat and shook my hand in true Norwegian fashion.

A

I should not dare to boast of my own culinary efforts, but my companion had for a month proved himself an excellent chef. Nevertheless, it must be acknowledged that on boarding the steamer which was to take us to the coast, we took a very great interest in the wonderful dishes put before us (and not in vain) at the first few meals.

We had determined to work in the neighborhood of the coast for a week, so we disembarked at Ekaterina-a remarkable place at the mouth of the Kola Fjord. The harbor of Ekaterina is practically land locked, and thus well protected from all winds. Moreover, by the kindly influence exerted by the Gulf Stream it is the most easterly harbor in the north of Europe which is free from ice at all seasons, and is thus the only northern port possessed by Russia which remains unfrozen in the winter. Though the water

is deep the harbor is small, being only about a quarter of a mile wide. It would not, therefore, be convenient for large war vessels which could not easily turn in it. Nevertheless, the Russian Government have here built a small dry dock, and at great cost have constructed a fine road up the rocky slope which descends abruptly to the water's edge. The road leads to the only level piece of ground on the hills round the harbor. This was a small marsh, but has now been drained, and some fifty wooden buildings forming the new town of Ekaterina have been erected upon it. These buildings were all made in Archangel, and brought thence in parts. They include a fine church, a custom house, a school, and other public offices. During our journey through Lapland, Ekaterina had just been completed, and had been opened officially with great ceremony. We spent a most enjoyable week here, being most hospitably entertained by a party of Russian marine biologists, who were installed in a wellfitted laboratory. Although the weather was wretched we much enjoyed the bracing air of the coast after the muggy atmosphere of the interior. We were able to add considerably to our collection. The most remarkable point about the birds on this rocky northern coast was the fact that many of them still had nests with fresh eggs, although the winter was coming on apace. Mealy redpolls were common amongst the stunted birch trees, which struggled for an existence in the dells amongst the rocks, where they were more or less protected from the winds. Most of the redpolls had fresh eggs in their beautiful little nests, and I feel sure that these were first broods, for I saw no young birds about. One nest contained a dead bird sitting on two eggs. On dissecting this bird it was evident that it had died "egg-bound," which 3 "Linota linaria."

3

I fancy must be a rare occurrence

amongst wild birds.

One day we saw a diver flying over a hill. As we watched, it began to circle, and eventually flew down behind the hill. We crept over the slope, and found a small tarn on the other side, and seeing no bird about we concluded that it had gone on to its nest. So we separated and walked carefully round the small lake. I had not gone far before a large bird slid silently off the bank into the water. Swimming rapidly for a short distance, it suddenly raised its body perpendicularly in the water, and flapping its wings began to croak loudly. As I wanted the bird I did not delay long in shooting it, knowing well from experience that when once these birds begin diving it is next to impossible to get them. The bird proved to be a red-throated diver.' On the bank from which it had slid were two fresh eggs, placed in a depression in the wet moss within a foot of the edge of the tarn. From the nest to the water was a shallow trough worn in the moss by the bird, which was accustomed to slide from its eggs down into the water. My friend and I waited patiently in turns for many hours well hidden near the nest, hoping that the other bird would come to the nest. But it never appeared, although its mate which we had shot proved to be the male.

Bidding adieu to our kind Russian hosts we sailed for Vardoe. Here we had to wait six hours for a steamer to take us south, and during that time we employed ourselves most profitably in collecting birds. We found a number of interesting species congregated in a field attached to a small fort. On one side some soldiers were drilling, on the other a sentry was pacing up and down. Still we were determined to Knowledge.

"Colymbus septentrionalis."

have those birds, and accordingly climbed over the fence and proceeded to get them. In our eagerness we had soon forgotten the sentry, and were surprised after shooting some six or eight birds to see him buckling on his sword and running towards us. Pocketing the birds, as well as the little poaching gun which we had been using, and climbing out of the field, we went to meet the little man in the most innocent way. However, he received us with an awful torrent of what sounded like abuse. We were both most ignorant of the Norwegian language, and the only expression I could think of as at all befitting the occasion was a word sounding like "umflelardles," and signifying "I beg your pardon." Accordingly I repeated this word many times in the suavest possible way, and then we walked rapidly away to our boat, leaving the soldier in a most indignant rage. Unluckily some boys had seen and heard the whole of the fun, and they followed us through the town shouting out the tale, and repeating some of the sentry's choicest expressions, as well as my apology, which seemed to cause the inhabitants great amusement. We were well able to join in the laugh, because our hare pockets bulged conspicuously with a rich booty.

Martha Lupton had been considered "wonderful house-proud" in those faraway days on which she now looked back with a mixture of pride and sorrow-the days in which she had had a house of her own and "no need to be behowden to nobry." The house, as a matter of fact, had been her hus band's, but poor old Dicky Lupton had never been made "mich count on." He had been well bullied and kept in order; and Martha's neatness and cleanliness had made his life a sore burden to him. Even during his last illness the poor man had scarcely dared turn in bed for fear of rumpling sheet or pillow-case. Some of the neighbors had averred that as often as his poor feeble hand plucked at the counterpane when his end drew near, Martha, between her sobs, had possessed herself of it and carefully replaced it beneath the trimly-folded clothes.

But now Dicky was no more, and all that remained of him was a framed sampler worked by his hand in youthhe had evidently been born to be henpecked-and his hat, which hung in a prominent position opposite the door "to freet'n tramps," Martha said, though whether tramps generally think it worth their while to visit almshouses is a moot point. Yes, Martha now occupied one of the neat row of tiny almshouses situate near the school, and founded by the same generous benefactor more than two hundred years ago. A typical Lancashire man this must have been, open-handed, warm-hearted, but chary of words. The inscription over the school porch must surely have been characteristic: "Doce, disce vel discede."

Martha's present home was a narrow one, it was true, consisting of two rooms which she shared with another old woman called Moggy Gill; and in this enforced companionship lay what Martha felt to be the supreme hardship of her lot. She could put up with living on charity, having worked so hard all her life; now that she was no longer able to "addle wage," it was clearly somebody's duty to provide for her; therefore she pocketed her seven shillings a week without scruple, and made the most of the poor little dwelling assigned to her. But not so much as to have it to herself!-that was the crux. To be moidered with a poor do-less creature same as Moggy-Moggy who could never be trusted to sweep clean or to dust the back of a chair as well as the front, or even to fill the kettle without spilling some of its contents on the freshly raddled floor. Moggy was enough to try the patience of a saint. She was a little blear-eyed old woman, a spinster. "The men-folk knowed better nor to pick sich a poor missis as hoo'd ha' made," Martha frequently asserted. She was rheumatic and, moreover, clumsy; and though she and Martha had dwelt together for more than five years she had not yet begun to get into Martha's ways. Moggy had been first in possession, but the other at once took command; she continued to be house-proud even in her two rooms, and not only delighted in scrubbing and cleaning and polishing, but insisted that Moggy should be equally energetic.

"Share and share alike," she would say; "you scrub floor and I'll raddle it." So down poor old Moggy would go on rheumatic knees, while Martha stood over her, frowning.

her

"I knowed ye'd never shift hearth

rug," she would cry if Moggy evinced any intention of shirking the two square feet of flags occupied by a piece of patchwork, fashioned by Martha's own hands.

"I-I wur just a-comin' to it," she would falter, squatting back upon her heels.

"Nay, you was for leavin' it-I seed ye. Mind that corner now. Get clout well in-to't. Your fingers is all thumbs, seemin❜ly."

"Never content," Moggy would groan, dropping on all fours again.

“Nay, I'm not like to be content when folks go scampin' their work that gate. You don't find no scampin' about my work. When I undertake a thing I stick to it. I undertook to make that there hearthrug, and neighbors is all agreed 'tis a pictur'."

""Tis a pictur', too, Mrs. Lupton; 'tis sure," Moggy would agree obsequiously, hoping to give the conversation a more agreeable turn.

"Well, then, don't ye go a-makin' little of it by layin' of it on a dirty floor," Martha would return unflinchingly.

Her achievements in the way of patchwork caused much tribulation to her house-mate, though she was almost as proud of them as the maker herself. Not only were both beds covered with quilts deftly fashioned out of odds and ends, but each chair had a patchwork cover, and, moreover, cushions of the same; the tablecloth was ingeniously constructed in like manner, while the hearthrug, as has been already stated, was a miracle of its kind. Martha possessed wonderfully keen eyesight for her years, and it was her delight after her "readyin' up" had been accomplished to sit steadily at her sewing as long as daylight lasted. She was actually employed on the construction of a carpet, which was intended to cover the centre of the floor-a stupendous achievement to the accomplishment of which Moggy looked forward with

dread; it was hard enough to avoid getting into trouble over the patchwork trophies already in existence. She was not allowed to tread upon the hearthrug, and was obliged to shake and dust her dress before sitting on a chair; woe to her, indeed, if she incautiously set down dish or cup on the table without first removing and carefully folding the cover! Sometimes she looked back with a sigh to past days when a certain good-natured old Irishwoman had shared her abode, and they two used to sit pleasantly idle during long hours chatting and gazing into the little street. But Martha would not tolerate idleness.

"Ye can't sew!" she had exclaimed with incredulous scorn on one of the early days of their partnership, “but ye must knit, for sure?"

Then on Moggy's feebly shaking her head, "Well, then, I'll soon learn ye." And in spite of Moggy's protests and many bungling mistakes, "learnt" she was, and thenceforth while Martha stitched and the pattern of the carpet grew daily more complicated, Moggy sat by the window plying her needles and sighing.

In the autumn of a certain year one of the inhabitants of the next-door cottage died, and was replaced by a woman younger and more active than any to be found in the whole little row of whitewashed dwellings-a woman SO active, indeed, that she supplemented her weekly pittance by going out regularly to work.

Mrs. Rimmer, her house-mate, came in one day to comment on the astonishing fact to her neighbors.

gether; while the latter added with a stified groan, "an' that's summat."

"Ah," cried Martha viciously, “'tis summat for sure. Nobry to get in your road; nobry to go upsettin' your things. Look at that there kettle now. Some folks don't so much as know the difference betwixt straight and crooked. When that there kettle begins o' bilin' it's mich if the whole place isn't in a swim."

""Tis wi' tryin' not to walk on hearthrug," pleaded Moggy, looking at Mrs. Rimmer with renewed envy; she did not have to count her steps, and could put her kettle on her coals in any sort of way she fancied. It must be pleasant, Moggy thought, to be so free as that.

"Well," said Mrs. Rimmer, poising her hands upon her hips and looking round dubiously, “I dunno; I don't howd wi' bein' always forsook like. When Mary Makin goes out of a forenoon I assure ye I feel awful lonesome. Nobry to pass the time o' day or to offer a remark of any mak' fro' morn till neet-'tis lonesome as how 'tis-an' it don't seem fair, neither. I can't seem to think hoo does her share. Hoo gets her mate where hoo works, you know, an' I have my bit o' dinner all to mysel'! Now poor Mrs. Formby, as is gone to her long home, allus went shares-our appetites was mich the same, ye know, so we jest paid butcher share and share alike, but Mary, hoo won't pay butcher nought. Hoo says hoo gats mate enough o' weekdays, and hoo doesn't fancy it o' Sundays. I don't seem to have the heart to sit down to a bit o' beef by mysel'." "I'd be willin' to change wi' you, I know," cried Martha vehemently, "eh dear, I would! I would that!"

Moggy said nothing, but continued to gaze speculatively at Mrs. Rimmer.

"I doubt if they'd let us change, though," returned the latter with a laugh. "The folks what puts us in

'ud be like to turn us out altogether if they thought we wasn't satisfied. Eh dear! 'Tis the A'mighty's will I s'pose-we must each bear we're own burdens. Well, good-day to ye, neighbors."

"Good-day, Mrs. Rimmer. Ye'll jist mind that little mat yon by the doorhole; I don't mich fancy it's bein' stepped on."

"Dear o' me, no to be sure, I reckon ye wouldn't. 'Tis a very handsome thing yon, 'tis for sure."

And making a long step, Mrs. Rimmer crossed the precious little mat and withdrew to her own quarters.

"Poor Moggy," she muttered to herself, "I never did see a body so put upon. Eh dear! hoo can scarce so much as look reet; t'other's down on her for everything. Now, I could do wi' Moggy very well-very well, I could. Hoo's as nice and quiet a creetur' as ever I comed across-I never heerd her give an ill word to nobry. And I'm sure I can't for the life of me think what manner o' good there can be in all they little mats as nobry's allowed to touch."

Meanwhile the couple next door had returned to their work in silence; Moggy, a little sore at heart at Martha's impatient words. She needn't have made little of her before strangers, she thought. Martha stitched away with angry jerks of her thread. Some folks didn't know when they were well off. There was Mrs. Rimmer reigning in peace and solitude, able to follow her own fancy from morning to night, while her betters were tied to them that was not much more than fools. "My word! When folks can't so mich as put kettle on fire wi'out burnin' it all o' one side and havin' it spottin' all over clean floor"-here she darted a wrathful glance at poor clumsy Moggy-"how can anyone expect the place to be nice? There's not a bit o' good in my bein' house-proud,” she groaned