the cruise until 1870, when it was actually commenced.

The Young America was the first, and for more than a year the only, vessel belonging to the Academy. The Josephine, a topsail schooner, had been added the second year; and now the Tritonia, a vessel of the same size and rig, was on her first voyage. The three vessels of the squadron were officered and manned by the students of the Academy. As on the first cruise, the offices were the rewards of merit bestowed upon the faithful and energetic pupils. The highest number of merits gave the highest office, and so on through the several grades in the cabin, and the petty offices in the steerage. The routine and discipline of the squadron were substantially the same as described in the first series of these volumes, though some changes had been made, as further experience suggested. Instead of quarterly, as before, the offices were given out every month. Captains were not retired after a single term, as formerly, but were obliged to accept whatever rank and position they earned, like other students.

There was no change from one vessel to another, except at the end of a school year, or with the permission of the principal. The ship had six instructors, three of whom, however, lectured to all the students in the squadron, and each of the smaller vessels had two teachers. Mr. Lowington was still the principal. He was the founder of the institution; and his high moral and religious principles, his love of justice, as well as his skill, firmness, and prudence, had made it a success in spite of the many obstacles which continually confronted it. As a considerable portion of the students in the squadron were the spoiled sons of rich men, who had set at defiance the rules of colleges and academies on shore, it required a remarkable combination of attributes to fit a gentleman for the difficult and trying position he occupied.

Mr. Fluxion was the first vice-principal in charge of the Josephine. He was a thorough seaman, a good disciplinarian, and a capital teacher; but he lacked some of the high attributes of character which distinguished the principal. If any man was fit to succeed Mr. Lowington in his responsible position, it was Mr. Fluxion; but it was doubtful whether, under his sole administration, the institution could be an entire success. His love of discipline, and his energetic manner of dealing with delinquents, would probably have increased the number of “rows,” mutinies, and runaways.

The second vice-principal, in charge of the Tritonia, was Mr. Tompion, who, like his two superiors in rank, had formerly been an officer of the navy. Though he was a good sailor, and a good disciplinarian, he lacked that which a teacher needs most—a hearty sympathy with young people.

The principal and the two vice-principals were instructors in mathematics and navigation in their respective vessels. Mr. Lowington had undertaken this task himself, because he felt the necessity of coming more in contact with the student than his position as mere principal required. It tended to promote friendly relations between the governor and the governed, by creating a greater sympathy between them.

The Rev. Mr. Agneau still served as chaplain. In port, and at sea when the weather would permit, two services were held in the steerage every Sunday, which were attended, at anchor, by the crew of all the vessels. Prayers were said morning and evening, in the ship by the chaplain, in the schooners by the vice-principal or one of the instructors.

Dr. Winstock was the instructor in natural philosophy and chemistry, as well as surgeon and sanitary director. He was a good and true man, and generally popular among the students. Each vessel had an adult boatswain and a carpenter, and the ship a sailmaker, to perform such work as the students could not do, and to instruct them in the details of practical seamanship.

After the lapse of five years, hardly a student remained of those who had cruised in the ship or her consort during the first voyage. But in addition to the three vessels which properly constituted the squadron, there were two yachts, each of one hundred and twenty tons. They were fore-and-aft schooners, of beautiful model, and entirely new. The one on the weather wing of the fleet was the Grace, Captain Paul Kendall, whose lady and two friends were in the cabin. Abreast of her sailed the Feodora, Captain Robert Shuffles, whose wife was also with him. Each of these yachts had a first and second officer, and a crew of twenty men, with the necessary complement of cooks and stewards. They were part of the fleet, but not of the Academy Squadron.

CHAPTER II.

OFF THE NAZE OF NORWAY.

Mr. Lowington examined Ole Amundsen very carefully, in order to ascertain what disposition should be made of him. He told where he was born, how he had learned English, and where he had passed the greater portion of his life, just as he had related these particulars to Captain Cumberland.

“But how came you out here in an open boat?” asked the principal.

Ole examined the carpet on the floor of the cabin, and made no reply.

“Won’t you answer me?” added Mr. Lowington.

The waif was still silent.

“You have been to sea?”

“Yes, sir; I was six months in a steamer, and over two years in sailing vessels,” answered Ole, readily.

“What steamer were you in?”

“I was in the Drammen steamer a while; and I have been three trips down to Copenhagen and Gottenburg, one to Lübeck, one to Stettin, and one to Stockholm.”

“Have you been in a steamer this season?”

“No, sir.”

“Then you were in a sailing vessel.”

Ole would not say that he had been in any vessel the present season.

“Where is your home now?” asked the principal, breaking the silence again.

“Haven’t any.”

“Have you a father and mother?”

“Both dead, sir.”

“Have you any friends?”

“Friends? I don’t believe I have.”

“Any one that takes care of you?”

“Takes care of me? No, sir; I’m quite certain I haven’t any one that takes care of me. I take care of myself, and it’s heavy work I find it, sometimes, I can tell you.”

“Do you ever go fishing?”

“Yes, sir, sometimes.”

“Have you been lately?”

Ole was silent again.

“I wish to be your friend, Ole.”

“Thank you, sir,” added Ole, bowing low.

“But in order to know what to do for you, I must know something about your circumstances.”

“I haven’t any circumstances, sir. I lost ’em all,” replied Ole, gravely and sadly, as though he had met with a very serious loss.

Dr. Winstock could not help laughing, but it was impossible to decide whether the boy was ignorant of the meaning of the word, or was trying to perpetrate a joke.

“How did you happen to lose your circumstances, Ole?” asked Mr. Lowington.

“When my mother died, Captain Olaf took ’em.”

“Indeed; and who is Captain Olaf?”

Ole looked at the principal, and then returned his gaze to the cabin floor, evidently not deeming it prudent to answer the question.

“Is he your brother?”

“No, sir.”

“Your uncle?”

“No, sir.”

Ole could not be induced to say anything more about Captain Olaf, and doubtless regretted that he had even mentioned his name. The waif plainly confounded “circumstances” and property. Mr. Lowington several times returned to the main inquiry, but the young man would not even hint at the