TIBERIUS SMITH
they probably had been improperly nurtured. He believed they celebrated their 'at homes' in the burglar-proof regions of the ultimate North, and had rambled down to the southwest coast because of terribly severe storms and the sub-zero stunts of the thermometer.
"This was enough for my patron, and another day saw us in consultation with the main-spring of the circus. The upshot was, we took passage on a cryolite bark immediately, bound for the frost-bitten, isle-girted coast of Ivigtut. Greenland, you know, is the only spot on the map that yields cryolite in commercial quantities, and a company in the Keystone State enjoys the exclusive privilege of shipping the stuff to the Americas. We embarked on one of their boats so as not to attract attention, for there were collectors who kept close tabs on Tib—why, Jenkins, collecting for a wild-animal show, once trailed us all through the Congo district, realizing we were after something good!
"While bounding over the billows, Tib kept school and informed me we would arrive at Ivigtut at the beginning of the summer season, when the average mean temperature is 48° Fahrenheit for three months, and where the officials of the Danish government try to eradicate homesickness by growing turnips, lettuce, and very small potatoes, mainly under glass. By the time we began to be annoyed
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