land. This went so far that Karlsefne and those who had voyaged from Iceland in company with them, made their preparations to set sail for Vinland in the spring. They fitted out the two ships that they had brought with them from Iceland, and at least one other, and took with them one hundred and sixty men in all. In the ship with Thorfinn Karlsefne, were Gudrid his wife, and his friend Snorri Thorbrandson. In another ship were Bjarni Grimolfson and Thorhall Gamlason, the owners; in a third were Thorvard, who had married Freydis, a natural daughter of Erik the Red, and another Thorall, called the hunter, an old servant of Erik's. This setting forth of the Thorfinn Karlsefne expedition, is believed to have taken place A. D. 1007.

In

The members of this expedition followed the now accustomed course. They found in succession, and identified, and further explored, Helluland and Markland. They found that the dense woods of the latter abounded with wild beasts; and upon an island, off that coast they killed a bear. due time they arrived at Kjalarness, and there found Thorvald's keel still standing. They then ran south, by the beach which stretches along the whole eastern shore of Cape Cod pen insula, to which they gave the name of Furdustrandir (wonderful beach). Then coasting westward for a time, they ran their ships into a cove. There were in the ship with Karlsefne two Scotch bodies-a man and a woman-whom King Olaf Tryggvason had, in time past, given to Leif Erikson. They were remarkably swift of foot-they were swifter than beasts;' and Thorfinn now set them on shore and bade them run to the southward of the land, and explore its qualities, and come back again within three days.' They did so, and at the appointed time returned, one of them having in hand a bunch of grapes, and the other, a new sown ear of wheat.' So these Northmen call it;

but it is presumed to have been an ear of maize, often called 'Indian wheat' by the early European visitors, of a later date, to these parts. These messenger doves were received again on board their ark, which then sailed farther westward, and into a frith having an island before it, around which there were strong currents. They called the inlet Straumfjord (Stream Frith), and the island Straumey (Stream Island). The island is supposed to be Martha's Vineyard, which may then have been one with Nantucket; and the inlet, Buzzard's Bay.

เ

6

They found the shores of this frith very beautiful; and they unloaded their cargoes and prepared to remain there. 'They had with them all sorts of cattle.' They undertook nothing but to explore the land,' in consequence of which they were there for the winter without having provided food beforehand.' The result of such improvidence-extraordinary in Northmen-was what might have been expected. They suffered much during the winter through lack of suitable food. At one time, they all became ill through eating of a whale that had become stranded in their neighbourhcod. But afterwards they learned to catch wild animals for food; and as the weather improved, they were enabled to go out fishing successfully, and, with returning spring they collected great quantities of eggs of wild fowl, on the island. So they got through their severe ordeal, without any decrease of number. Nay, they did better than that, as we shall see. The event to be noted demands a new paragraph.

Some time in the autumn of this their first year in Vinland (A. D. 1007), Gudrid bore to her husband Thornfinn Karlsefne a son. That son was named SNORRI. At the present day, there is a host of people through the three kingdoms of Scandinavia, comprising noblemen, statesmen, prelates, and many men who

have become eminent in literature, jurisprudence, arms, and art, as there has been through the long intervening past, who claim direct descent from this Snorri, the Vinland-born son of Thorfinn Karlsefne and his wife Gudrid. The succession is clearly traced out in their several genealogical charts, without any missing links whatever. Thus, for instance, Bertel Thorvaldson, the world-famous sculptor, and Finn Magnusson, the scarcely less famous Northern antiquarian and Runic scholar-both of them not long since deceased-are each lineally descended, in the twenty-fourth degree, from Snorri Thorfinnson, born in 1007, in Vinland—that is, some where about the sea-side borders of the present States of Massachusetts and Rhode Island.

In the spring of 1008, it appears that a difference of opinion occurred between Karlsefne and Thorhall the Hunter. The latter wished to explore by going northward and along the Furdustrands; the former was desirous of going southwards and westwards along the coast. Thorhall made his his preparations; only nine of the whole company determined to go with him, all the rest remaining with Karlsefne. This Thorhall seems to have been a scarcely disguised pagan in his religious views, and somewhat of a heretic about the virtues of Vinland. When all ready for a start, he carried water on board of his ship,

drank of it before all hands, and then sang a song, which is thus translated: 'People told me, when I came Hither, all would be so fine; The good Vinland, known to fame, Rich in fruits and choicest wine; Now the water-pail they send; To the fountain I must bend, Nor from out this land divine Have I quaffed one drop of wine.'

Then, when he had hoisted sail, he continued his satirical song. It is said by Norse critics that, in the original, these songs bear the certain stamp of the tenth and eleventh centuries. Thus Thorhall chaunted:

'Let our trusty band
Haste to Fatherland;
Let our vessel brave
Plough the angry wave,
While those few who love
Vinland, here may rove,
Or, with idle toil,
Fetid whales may boil,
Here on Furdustrand,
Far from Fatherland."

Thorhall and his little crew sailed away to the northwards, past Furdustrand, past Kjalarness, and then sought to cruise to the westward; but there arose a strong west wind, which drove them irresistibly before it, out into the ocean. Their fate is uncertain; but it was afterwards reported by travelling merchants that they were driven, or made their way over to Iceland, where they were seized and made slaves.

(To be continued.)

CHAPTER III.--(Continued.)

ONE

day a letter came from Reginald. 'I am coming home, mother,' he wrote; 'I have not been feeling very well; don't be alarmed, it is nothing serious, only a headache. To tell the truth, I think I have worked at my books too hard lately. I have

worn myself out. The doctor says I

need rest, so I am coming home to get it. I shall start on Wednesday, by the morning train. Tell Elsie.'

Of course Mrs. Ellerslie was greatly excited and alarmed, despite her son's injunctions; and she counted the hours until Reginald should come! And the hours went swiftly enough. One dark cloudy night, when all good citizens were comfortably sleeping, and only the stars and moon looked down upon the winter world, soft white flakes of snow drifted lazily down, gradually increasing in number and rapidity of descent until, when morning broke, hill and dale, lawn and meadow, were all alike clothed in one unbroken spotless robe of white, covering up the dingy housetops and the muddy highway; resting on the shivering trees to shield them from the cold; finding lodging-place even on the narrow window-sills, so that when Elsie awoke the first thing she did was, to cross to the window to ascertain the meaning of their presence there.

'O what a white, white world!' she thought; and then she let her clasped hands fall down before her,their usual way when Elsie was thinking-and stood and looked out upon the scene. There was no joy or glad

ness in the girl's face as she stood there. The sun shone and sparkled on the new-fallen snow, but there was no answering joy in Elsie's heart to harmonize with the spirit of the scene. Already the tinkle of jingling bells told of pleasure-seekers and busy workers, abroad in sleighs and cutters, both, no doubt, rejoicing in the new phase of affairs. Even as Elsie watched, a double sleigh dashed past, crowded with merry children and little less merry parents, off for the first sleighride, their happy laughter ringing above the tinkling of the bells, and striking Elsie with a keen sense of discord with her own sad feelings. And yet Reginald was coming home to-day! Reginald, to whom she had promised her hand, with whom she was to spend her whole future life as long as God spared them both! Reginald was coming home, and yet Elsie, his promised wife, was sad and weary of heart. Why was this? On this very day, one year ago, she had put away from her, angrily and scornfully cast from her, the greatest happiness she had ever known. Cast it from her and left her heart O so void, so empty! filled with a bitter, angry pain. Perhaps the pain had grown weaker-perhaps so-but it seemed to Elsie that it had only grown deeper and more firmly rooted, and therefore, like all such sorrows, it became quieter and less demonstrative, She had ceased to battle with fate now. 'It was no use,' she thought, 'her life was allotted 'thus, to be one of secret pain and loneliness. The whole great burden of her darkened life would never be less hard to bear than it was

now!'

Some hearts are fashioned so. Their wounds lie not on the surface, but so deep down that not even time, that Methuselah of physicians, can work a cure upon them. Too deep for affectation, too sacred for display, they are zealously guarded and concealed that the world may know nothing of them. O how little do any of us know of the trial and trouble, pain and poverty, death and desolation that darkens this globe on which we live Elsie turned from the window and hastily dressed, for the first bell had rung. After breakfast she went up to Reginald's room to make it ready for his coming. The picture still hung over the mantelpiece, yet Elsie did not even glance at it, but resolutely kept her face turned from it.

'I must not do it!' she said to herself. 'I have pledged my hand to another, and it is very wrong to let my thoughts play traitor; even though, since he cannot be anything to me now, I had rather, O how much rather, remain free for life than give to another what I would not give to him! Yet I have pledged my word and I cannot draw back now, so I must not do it!' She hastened from one thing to another, more hurriedly than was at all necessary, it may be,-perhaps it was in order to escape as soon as possible from temptation's power! Whatever the reason of her haste, ber task was soon done; the crimson curtains were rightly draped, the vase upon the table was filled with flowers gathered from the dining-room stand, and then Elsie went down to order a fire in Mr. Reginald's' room. 'For,' she said, 'He will be here at noon, Jane.' But noon passed by, the short winter afternoon waned, and not till evening, just as Elsie had almost decided to desert her post at the window, where she had been watching for the last half hour in the twilight-not till then did Reginald come. The sound of wheels upon the avenue awakened Elsie from a reverie into which she had fallen, and almost im

mediately a cab drove up to the front door and Reginald sprang from it. Elsie saw him give some direction to the driver and then he ran up the steps, but before she could meet him at the door he had entered the room, caught her in his arms and kissed her, saying, as he released her :

There! that's to vent all my joy at being home three weeks earlier than I expected. Now it's your turn! Give me a welcome, Elsie mine!'

'Two, if you want them,' answered Elsie, surprised into a laugh. 'Have I not been watching this last half hour for you, and expecting you ever since noon? Do you think such tardiness deserves a welcome?'

'I could not leave this morning, and to night's train was an hour late. Now am I forgiven? Ah, yes, Jane!' he cried, as he heard his name pronounced at the door, tell him to take them up to my room; you show him the way. Now, Elsie, 1 will relieve myself of this conglomeration of wraps, and then -up with the gas, and blessings on the jolly hearth fires, for there's nothing like them!'

They were a merry party that evening! Even Elsie felt happier and lighter-hearted as she answered Reginald's jokes, and joined in with his careless laughter. Reginald was truly much paler and thinner than when he went away, and there was just a vague weariness in his eyes that made his mother more than ever anxious about his comfort.

'He needs attention, poor boy,' she said; we'll nurse him well between us, won't we, Elsie?'

And Reginald, very happy in having two such nurses, laughed, as he leaned back in his cozy, cushioned chair, drawn right up to the blazing hearth, and thought, that, of all the homes he had ever been into, there was not another as cozy, and altogether perfect, as his own; nor did he think the world could provide two more such women as his mother and his cousin Elsie.