penguin pictures, whales and seals, bird life in the pack, flash light
photographs of people and ponies, pictures of Erebus and other splendid
and familiar landmarks, and, in short, a magnificent pictorial record of
events, for Ponting had been everywhere with his camera, and it is only
to be regretted that the Expedition did not take him to the Pole. This
was, of course, impossible, when everything had to give way to food.
Following the photographic display and the Christmas Tree came the only
Antarctic dance we enjoyed. Few of us remember much about it for we were
very merry, thanks to the wine, and there was considerable horseplay. I
remember dancing with the cook whilst Oates danced with Anton. Everybody
took a turn, and associated with this dance I might mention that Clissold
so far forgot himself as to call Scott "Good old Truegg." Truegg was the
composition used by us for cooking in various ways omelets, buttered
eggs, puddings, and cakes of all kinds, and, although it was a great boon
to the Expedition, we had by this time tired of it. Still, we used it as
a term of endearment, but nobody in his sober senses would have dreamt of
calling our much respected Commander "Good old Truegg"; the brandy punch
must have been responsible for Clissold's mixing up of names! We had now
arrived at the stage when it was time to shut up, the officers became
interested in an aurora display and gradually rolled off to bed. It was
left to me to see the seamen turned in; they were good-humoured but
obstreperous, and not until 2 a.m. did silence and order once more reign
in the hut.

Very wisely our leader decided on June 23 being kept as a day of rest;
our digestions were upset and we took this time off to make and mend
clothes, and returned to our winter routine, a little subdued perhaps, on
June 24.