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A PALACE UNDER THE SEA.

BY DAVID KER.

For any one who wants to take a month's holiday, there are few better places than the islands of Orkney and Shetland and Faroe. They are a long way off, to be sure, and in the midst of a very rough sea, that plays sad tricks with any one who is not a good sailor; but there is plenty to be seen when you once get there. The great black cliffs rising straight up out of the sea for two or three hundred feet, with thousands of sea-birds fluttering and screaming around them; and the wide, bleak, gray moorlands, without a single tree to relieve their grimness--for on most of these Northern islands no trees will grow; and the bright blue sea dancing and sparkling in the sunshine, or flinging itself up against the rocks in flying gusts of foam; and the little red-tiled cottages, inhabited by hard-faced old sailors, who have chased the whale in the far Northern seas, through many a floating "ice-pack," and many a fearful storm; the Shetland ponies, with their funny little black faces and shaggy manes, frisking about the lonely hill-sides, and many other objects of interest.

But in the Shetland Islands there is one sight worth all these put together, and, by good luck, it is close to the town of Lerwick, where all the steamers from the South put in. But for all that, it is no easy matter to see it properly. To begin with, you can only go there in a boat, and you must go at low tide, and you must take all sorts of things with you--ropes and boat-hooks and pine torches, and sometimes food as well; and perhaps, after all this, you may have to come back again without seeing anything at all.

Early on a fine spring morning, when the March gales seem to have fairly blown themselves out, and the sea is smooth as glass, I come tramping down to the shore through the straggling streets of Lerwick, which, with its little one-storied cottages, and its narrow windows, and its tiny fort, and its pavement of slippery cobble-stones, and its quaint old-world aspect, looks quite like a town in a fairy tale. So close does it lie to the water's edge that many of the houses have boats drawn up under their very windows; and beside one of these boats I find two old acquaintances of mine standing together. The one is a tall, handsome young fellow of five-and-twenty, the other a grim old "salt," with a voice as hoarse as a raven, and a face like the figure-head of some storm-battered vessel.

"Good-morning, Hay; good-morning, Peter. Can we go to Bressa Head to-day?"

"We'll a' be at the bottom in twa minutes."

This is certainly comforting; but "nothing venture, nothing have." I jump into the boat, the two sailors get out their oars, and off we go.

Away, away, over the smooth bright water, with the green sunny slopes of mainland on one side, and the huge gray cliffs of Bressa on the other. We are soon round the point, right out into the open sea; and to our left a sheer wall of black frowning precipice towers up against the sky for six hundred feet, while to our right, far as eye can reach, extends the great waste of dark water, which may at any moment lash itself into rage, and ingulf us all. Looking from it to that tremendous cliff, on which not even a cat could find footing, I begin to see that Peter was right as to what might happen should the wind rise.

But for the present all is going well. Not a ripple on the water, not a breath in the air, not a cloud in the sunny sky. And now we turn our boat's head, and steer, as it seems to me, straight into the rocks, for look as I will no sign of an opening can I see.

Ha! what is this dark line that suddenly shows itself in the face of the cliff? At first it seems no broader than the stroke of a pencil; but the line soon widens into a rift, and the rift grows into a deep shadowy archway like the mouth of a tunnel. We shoot into it, and instantly the bright sky and the golden sunshine and the sparkling sea vanish like a dream, and around us is the blackness of midnight, while far within we hear the dull boom of unseen waves, rolling through the sunless caverns where no man has ever been.

Suddenly Peter lights a pine-wood torch, and a blaze of splendor bursts upon us, dazzling as a tropical sunrise. Roof, walls, archway, every point and every corner, are one great rainbow of blue, and crimson, and yellow, and green. Pillars stand ranged along the sides, polished and shapely as if carved by a sculptor. Long icicle-like points of rock hang from the roof, glittering like diamonds in the sudden light. There are tapestries, too, such as no Norman castle ever had--tapestries of purple sea-weed, smooth and glossy as the finest velvet. And instead of a floor, this strange place is paved with smooth clear dark green water, upon which the red glare of our torch comes and goes like the light of a magic lantern.

This is the sight for which we have come--our "palace under the sea." And a palace indeed it is, which might suit the Sleeping Beauty herself. For all we know she may be dreaming out the last of her hundred years behind these heavy folds of sea-weed, which are undoubtedly a curtain worthy of any princess. Aladdin may be sitting in yonder corner industriously rubbing his wonderful lamp; Tom Thumb may be peeping slyly at us over the edge of that pointed rock; the "Little Mermaid" and her sisters may have been swimming in this pool when we entered, and fled at our approach. And as we glide into the smaller cave that opens out of the larger, what is this queer-looking creature that scurries off along the nearest ledge? Puss-in-Boots? Hop-o'-my-Thumb? one of Gulliver's Lilliputians? Alas! no--only a big crab.

At the farther end of the second cave a wide cleft in the rock seems to offer us an easy passage, but another look shows me two sharp rocks planted within, like huge teeth, threatening certain destruction to any boat that may venture between them.

"Mony a mon has tried to pass yon place," says old Peter, shaking his gray head, "but nane ever did it, nor ever will. And noo, Maister Ker, the tide's-risin', and I'm thinkin' the sooner we're oot o' this the better."

A BOY'S ROW-BOAT.

BY W. P. STEPHENS.

The building of a round-bottomed boat requires more skill in using tools than most boys possess, and some experience besides, but a very serviceable bateau, or flat-bottomed skiff, is easily built by any one who can use a saw, plane, and hammer.

Our boat must be of light draught, capable of carrying three or four boys, and adapted for rowing, hunting, and fishing on rivers and ponds. So we will take a flat-bottomed bateau, twelve feet eight inches long and of three feet six inches beam.

But one mould will be needed, of the shape of Fig. 2, thirteen inches wide, three feet four and a half inches on the top, and two feet ten and a half inches on the bottom. It may be of rough board, as it has no permanent place in the boat. A strip one inch square is nailed on the upper edge, projecting over each end, and making a guide in setting up the sides.

The bow is a piece of oak three by four and a half inches, and sixteen inches long, its shape being shown in Fig. 5. It can be hewn out with a hatchet and finished with a plane, the rabbets or recesses on each side for the ends of the side boards being cut with a mallet and chisel, and finished up square and true with a rabbet-plane. Too much care can not be taken to have all the joints true and close, leaving no seams to be stopped with putty. The square should be used constantly, as small errors at the start have a way of ending as very great ones.

The seats in bow and stern are of three-quarter-inch pine, supported by cross-pieces, shown by dotted lines in Fig. 1; or a locker may be made instead in the stern, with a hinged lid. A gunwale of oak or ash two inches wide and three-quarters of an inch thick is next nailed around the edge on each side. Two pieces of oak, twelve inches long, one and a half inches wide, and one inch thick, are screwed on to take the rowlocks: iron ones are best, and cost but little; if wooden ones are used, they are of oak or hickory, seven inches long, two inches wide, and half an inch thick, mortised into the bed-piece and gunwale, the centre of the opening being eleven inches from the after-edge of the thwart.

Two pieces of oak, with notches, forming a rack, are nailed to the edges of the bottom piece, and a strip of oak an inch square is laid across to form a brace for the feet. The oars are of spruce, seven feet long, and the blades five inches wide; leather is tacked around them where they rest in the rowlocks, and a strip of copper protects each end. After punching in all the nails, the boat may be planed off where it needs it, and then sand-papered all over.

The first coat of paint should be white lead mixed with boiled oil, enough black being added to make a lead-color. When it is dry, all the holes should be puttied over, and a second coat applied. White looks well, with a red stripe around the gunwale; but it is difficult to keep clean, and green makes a less noticeable color, and is better for hunting. Any light tint will do for the inside.

Should the boat leak after being in the water for a day or two, the seams must be calked with cotton, forced in with a blunt knife. A ring-bolt in the bow and fifteen feet of three-eighths inch rope complete the equipment, unless a chain is needed for security.

The cost of the materials will be from five to seven dollars.

A MIDSUMMER DAY.

BY GEORGE COOPER.

There's a flush in the sky of crimson deep; From a waking bird there's a drowsy cheep; There's a ripple of gold upon the brooks, And a glitter of dew in dusky nooks. And this is the way A midsummer day Bids the world good-morning.

There's a tremulous cry from a tree-toad hid, And the husky plaint of the katydid; Then the fire-flies wink, now high, now low, Like a sudden flurry of golden snow. And this is the way A midsummer day Bids the world good-evening.

THE CRUISE OF THE "GHOST."

BY W. L. ALDEN,

"Get out the hammer and nails, and take a couple of the bottom boards and nail the canvas over the cockpit," ordered Charley. "We must keep the water out, or we shall get into trouble."

The boys silently obeyed him. The canvas cabin was laid across the cockpit; the boards were placed over the edges of the canvas and nailed down to the deck. An opening was left close to the tiller, so that any one could creep into the cockpit, but with the aid of a cord even this small opening could be closed.

"Now, boys," said Charley, when this work was done, "I want Tom and Harry to go below and go to sleep. We are in no danger just at present, but we may have hard work before us, and we can't afford to have everybody fagged out at the same time. Joe will stay here with me, in case I want him to help me. So go below, the port watch, and sleep while you can."

"Do you think we shall be drowned?" Harry whispered to Tom, as he prepared to follow him into the cabin.

"I hope we shall come through all right," replied Charley. "With that canvas over her cockpit, the boat ought to live through a pretty heavy gale. Keep up your courage. The wind may blow itself out in a little while. Anyway, we'll do our duty like men, and leave it to God to take care of us. By-the-bye, how are we off for water and provisions?"

"The water keg is full, for we filled it this morning, and we've provisions enough for three or four days, if we don't eat much."

"That's all right, then; but mind and don't drink a drop of water while you can get along without it."

Harry disappeared below the canvas, and Charley, after lacing up the opening, took two pieces of rope, one of which he passed around his waist and made it fast to the rudder-head, and the other of which he handed to Joe, and told him to lash himself to a ring-bolt in the deck. "Now, Joe," he said, "we're safe and comfortable."

"And I'm going to get wet again," replied Joe.

"Call the other fellows, Joe," said Charley.

Tom and Harry did not wait to be called, for they were wide awake, having been far too nervous to sleep. They instantly crept out of the cabin, and stood hanging on to the main-boom, which was lashed amidships.

"We can't scud much longer," Charley said, in his cheerful voice, "and we must try to make a drag. Get out your knives, and cut the gaff loose from the sail; but mind you don't let the sail get adrift. Joe, you find one of the rubber blankets, and a lot of that heavy blue-fish line."

When the gaff was cut loose, and the mainsail made snug around the boom, Charley ordered the spare oar to be lashed at right angles across the middle of the gaff. He then showed the boys how to lash the India rubber blanket over this frame-work, so that when finished it resembled an enormous black kite. Next the cannon was lashed firmly to one end of the gaff, and finally the cable was cut loose from the anchor, passed through a hole in the middle of the blanket, and made fast to the gaff and the oar just where they crossed each other.

"Now, boys, what I'm going to do is this," said Charley, when the drag was finished. "I'm going to try to bring her head up to the wind, and let her ride, with the drag as a sea-anchor. The danger will be when she gets broadside to the sea, but it will only last a minute or two. It will be a very ticklish minute; but if she lives through it, we shall probably ride the gale out safely."

"Have we got to try it?" asked Tom.

"It is the only thing we can do. If we keep on scudding, we are certain to be swamped; but if she doesn't ship any heavy sea while the drag is bringing her up, we shall be pretty safe."

"Then we'll do it," said Tom; "and I suppose the sooner we do it, the better."

"All right," returned Charley. "Take the halyards, and take a turn around your waists, so that you won't get washed overboard. Now, when I give the word, heave the drag overboard, and stand clear of the cable, for it may catch you by the legs. Are you all ready?"

"Ready," answered Tom and Harry.

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