The Waif of the Cynthia | Page 3

would willingly do so," answered Mr. Malarius, "but to tell you the
truth, I have no longer any heart for geometry; besides, having
mentioned a holiday, I do not like to disappoint the children. There is

one way of arranging the matter however. If Doctor Schwaryencrona
would deign to do my pupils the honor of questioning them about their
studies, and then I will dismiss them for the rest of the day."
"An excellent idea. I shall be only too happy to do so. I will become
their examiner."
Then taking the master's seat, he addressed the school:
"Tell me," asked the doctor, "who is the best pupil?"
"Erik Hersebom!" answered fifty youthful voices unhesitatingly.
"Ah! Erik Hersebom. Well, Erik, will you come here?"
A young boy, about twelve years of age, who was seated on the front
row of benches, approached his chair. He was a grave, serious-looking
child, whose pensive cast of countenance, and large deep set eyes,
would have attracted attention anywhere, and he was the more
remarkable, because of the blonde heads by which he was surrounded.
While all his companions of both sexes had hair the color of flax, rosy
complexions, and blue eyes, his hair was of deep chestnut color, like
his eyes, and his skin was brown. He had not the prominent cheek
bones, the short nose, and the stout frame of these Scandinavian
children. In a word, by his physical characteristics so plainly marked, it
was evident that he did not belong to the race by whom he was
surrounded.
He was clothed like them in the coarse cloth of the country, made in the
style common among the peasantry of Bergen; but the delicacy of his
limbs, the smallness of his head, the easy elegance of his poise, and the
natural gracefulness of his movements and attitudes, all seemed to
denote a foreign origin.
No physiologist could have helped being struck at once by these
peculiarities, and such was the case with Dr. Schwaryencrona.
However, he had no motive for calling attention to these facts, and he

simply proceeded to fulfill the duty which he had undertaken.
"Where shall we begin--with grammar?" he asked the young lad.
"I am at the command of the doctor," answered Erik, modestly.
The doctor then gave him two or three simple questions, but was
astonished to hear him answer them, not only in the Swedish language,
but also in French and English. It was the usual custom of Mr. Malarius,
who contended that it was as easy to learn three languages at once as it
was to learn only one.
"You teach them French and English then?" said the doctor, turning
toward his friend.
"Why not? also the elements of Greek and Latin. I do not see what
harm it can do them."
"Nor I," said the doctor, laughing, and Erik Hersebom translated
several sentences very correctly.
In one of the sentences, reference was made to the hemlock drunk by
Socrates, and Mr. Malarius asked the doctor to question him as to the
family which this plant belonged to.
Erik answered without hesitation "that it was one of the family of
umbelliferous plants," and described them in detail.
From botany they passed to geometry, and Erik demonstrated clearly a
theorem relative to the sum of the angles of a triangle.
The doctor became every moment more and more surprised.
"Let us have a little talk about geography," he said. "What sea is it
which bounds Scandinavia, Russia and Siberia on the north?"
"It is the Arctic Ocean."
"And what waters does this ocean communicate with?"

"The Atlantic on the west, and the Pacific on the east."
"Can you name two or three of the most important seaports on the
Pacific?"
"I can mention Yokohama, in Japan; Melbourne, in Australia; San
Francisco, in the State of California."
"Well, since the Arctic Ocean communicates on one side with the
Atlantic, and on the other with the Pacific, do you not think that the
shortest route to Yokohama or San Francisco would be through this
Arctic Ocean?"
"Assuredly," answered Erik, "it would be the shortest way, if it were
practicable, but all navigators who have attempted to follow it have
been prevented by ice, and been compelled to renounce the enterprise,
when they have escaped death."
"Have they often attempted to discover the north-east passage?"
"At least fifty times during the last three centuries, but without
success."
"Could you mention a few of the expeditions?"
"The first was organized in 1523, under the direction of Franois
Sebastian Cabot. It consisted of three vessels under the command of the
unfortunate Sir Hugh Willoughby, who perished in Lapland, with all
his crew. One of his lieutenants, Chancellor, was at first successful, and
opened a direct route through the Polar Sea. But he also,