Sunday. Think what a pitiful kind of life ours is, eating our kindred animals! and in some places one another! Some of us (the Esquimaux), half whose life is spent in the dark, wholly dependent on one of two animals not many degrees removed from themselves for food, clothing, and fuel, and partly for shelter; making their sledges “of small fragments of porous bones [of whale], admirably knit together by thongs of hide” (Kane’s last book, vol. i, page 205), thus getting about, sliding about, on the bones of our cousins.