THE TRAVEL SERIES — No. i 
 Published Weekly Price, 50 Cents Annual Subscription, $25.00 October 25, 1897 
 
 ENTERED AT THE CHICAGO POST-OFFICE AS SECOND-CLASS MATTER 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN L. STODDARD 
 
 Illustrated and Embellished with One Hundred 
 
 and Twenty-eight Reproductions 
 
 of Photographs 
 
 CHICAGO 
 BELFORD, MIDDLEBROOK & COMPANY 
 
 MDCCCXCVII 
 
 Copyright, 1897, by John L. Stoddard 
 

NORWAY 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN L.STODDARD 
 
 ILLUSTRATED AND EMBELLISHED WITH 
 ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY- 
 EIGHT REPRODUCTIONS 
 OF PHOTOGRAPHS 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 BELFORD, MIDDLEBROOK & COMPANY 
 
 MDCCCXCVII 
 
Copyright, 1897 
 By John L. Stoddard 
 
 Entered at Stationers' Hall, London 
 all rights reserved 
 
PREFACE 
 
 A WITTY French abbe was once asked why he kept up 
 a country-seat which he never visited. " Do you 
 not know," he answered, "that I must have some 
 place, where, though I never go to it, I can always imagine 
 that I might be happier than where I am?" The world is 
 like the abbe. Most of us are not living, we are anticipating 
 life. We are always "going to our country-seats." It is 
 the land we have not visited that is to give to us our greatest 
 happiness. If we have not yet found it in America, it is 
 awaiting us in Europe; if not in Europe, surely in Japan. 
 As the Germans say, " Da wo ich nicht bin, da ist das 
 Gliick." Hence travel is attractive, if only as a means of 
 acquiring that happiness which here seems so elusive. All 
 of us hope to some day visit Europe and the Orient, and 
 for that reason everything pertaining to their beauty, art 
 and history seems alluring. But when these have been seen, 
 the wished-for goal of the untraveled world again recedes, 
 and the desire is just as strong to visit other and more dis- 
 tant lands. 
 
 This love of travel is not caused by ordinary restlessness. 
 It springs originally from the universal craving of the soul 
 for something different from its usual environment. 
 
 It also comes from a legitimate longing for that broader 
 education which only personal study of other races, civiliza- 
 tions and religions can bestow. And, finally, it arises from a 
 yearning for the joy and benefit of realizing history by visit- 
 ing the ancient shrines of art, the homes or sepulchres of 
 heroes, and the arenas of heroic deeds. When such desires 
 
 5 
 
6 PREFACE 
 
 are once awakened, to travel is to live, to remain continually 
 in one place is to stagnate. 
 
 Thousands of books of travel have been written, but not- 
 withstanding that the scenes described in them are practically 
 the same, and though the streets and buildings which adorn 
 their text are perfectly familiar to their readers, such works are 
 usually welcome, and always in proportion to the degree in 
 which mere figures and statistics are subordinated to the ideas 
 suggested by such travel to the writer's mind, which, of course, 
 vary infinitely according to the culture, sympathy and enthu- 
 siasm of the individual. Thus, in a similar way, the keys of 
 all pianos are the same; yet it is not the bits of ivory them- 
 selves that hold us spell-bound, but the magnetic fingers that 
 move over them, and the musical interpretation and expres- 
 sion given by the performer. 
 
 If only accurate statistics and detailed descriptions were 
 desired, guide-books would be sufficient ; but who ever reads 
 a guide-book for amusement? 
 
 Such thoughts have encouraged the author of these vol- 
 umes to present in printed form lectures which for eighteen 
 years have been received with never-failing kindness by an 
 indulgent public. Verba volant; Script a manent (Words are 
 fleeting, but what is written remains). The voice of the 
 speaker dies away, and what he says is soon forgotten, but on 
 these printed pages, that which has really caused whatever 
 success the "Stoddard Lectures" have achieved, may be 
 recalled precisely as the lectures were heard, accompanied 
 too by even more embellishment than illustrated them 
 at the time of their delivery. It has always given the writer 
 a singular sensation to meet his audiences season after season 
 after the separation of a year. Were they the same individ- 
 uals whom he had last addressed? He could not tell. They 
 could be absolutely sure of his identity, but he was quite 
 unable to determine theirs. Beyond the curve of platform 
 
PREFACE 7 
 
 or of stage, he could not distinguish the auditors of former 
 years from those who were seated there for the first time. 
 Sometimes they seemed to him scarcely more real and tangi- 
 ble than were the views that came and went so noiselessly 
 upon the screen. He looked for a few moments at an amphi- 
 theatre of expectant faces, then darkness would transform 
 them into rows of phantoms, and at the end he saw them 
 rise and disappear, like a great fleet of ships that separates 
 and scatters on a trackless sea. 
 
 In these volumes, however, he hopes to meet his audi- 
 ences more frequently, and for a longer time than ever before. 
 If, then, the oral lectures may have given the public some 
 enjoyment in the past, it is the author's hope that when he 
 himself no longer greets his former listeners, year by year, 
 these souvenirs of travel may in this form find a more endur- 
 ing place among the pleasures of their memories. 
 
 In that case he will not be utterly forgotten, for pleasant 
 memories can never be taken from us ; they are the only joys 
 of which we can be absolutely sure. 
 
 S 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2011 with funding from 
 
 Research Library, The Getty Research Institute 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/norwaychicagobelOOstod 
 
NORWAY 
 
OF all the countries on our globe, Norway, in some 
 respects, must rank as the most wonderful. From 
 the North Cape to its most southern limit the dis- 
 tance is about eleven hundred miles. Nearly one-third of this 
 great area lies within the Arctic circle. One would expect 
 
 its climate to be that of r - ~ -, 
 
 Greenland ; but Nature 
 saves it, as a habitation 
 for the race, by sending 
 thither the mysterious 
 Gulf Stream, which crosses 
 the Atlantic for five 
 thousand miles, and, al- 
 though far spent on that 
 distant shore, fulfills its 
 mission, transforming, by 
 its still warm breath, an 
 otherwise barren region to 
 a fertile land. But this is 
 only the beginning of Nor- 
 way's wonders. Exposed 
 to all the fury of the North Sea, Arctic and Atlantic, the 
 navigation of its coast would be well-nigh impossible had not 
 indulgent Nature made here countless breakwaters, by means 
 of a vast fringe of islands more than a thousand miles in 
 length, behind which are smooth, sheltered channels for the 
 largest ships. 
 
 KING OSCAR II. 
 
12 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 Again, Norwegian mountains come directly to the sea. 
 On this account, one might suppose that the interior would 
 be inaccessible. But Nature does here one more act of kind- 
 ness, and penetrates these mountain walls at many points 
 with ocean avenues, sometimes a hundred miles in length, 
 and with such depth that, at their farthest limits, steamers 
 may come directly to the shore. Moreover, to enhance its 
 mystery and beauty, Nature bestows on this, her favorite, 
 a day that is a summer long, — a light that never elsewhere 
 was on land or sea, 
 • — and makes its 
 splendid vistas still 
 more glorious by a 
 midnight sun. 
 
 There have been 
 
 THE HARBOR OK CHRISTI ANIA. 
 
 few experiences in 
 my life more joy- 
 ous and exhilarat- 
 ing than my arrival 
 in Christiania. It 
 was six o'clock in 
 the morning as our 
 steamer glided up its noble harbor. The sky was cloudless; 
 the water of the deepest blue; a few white sails rose here and 
 there, like sea-gulls, from the waves. The forest-covered 
 islands, emerald to the water's edge, seemed gems upon the 
 bosom of the bay. Beyond, were mountains glistening in 
 an atmosphere, the like of which, for clearness, I had never 
 seen. While the first breath of that crisp, aromatic air (a 
 most delicious blending of the odors of mountain, sea, and 
 forest; can never be forgotten. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 13 
 
 THE VICTORIA HOTEL. 
 
 "This, this 
 is Norway!" 
 we exclaimed, 
 " and it is all 
 before us; first, 
 in the joy of ex- 
 ploration ; then 
 in the calmer, 
 though perpet- 
 ual, pleasure of 
 its retrospec- 
 tion." 
 
 Excited by 
 our anticipa- 
 tions, we dis- 
 embarked as 
 speedily as possible, and hastened to the Hotel Victoria. It 
 is a well-kept, comfortable hostelry, whose chief peculiarity 
 is a spacious courtyard, where frequently, in summer, table 
 d'hote is served beneath a mammoth tent of gorgeous colors. 
 Moreover, it is a pleasant rendezvous for travelers; for 
 while some tourists are here setting forth upon their inland 
 journey, others have just completed it, 
 and with bronzed faces tell strange 
 stories of the North, which sound like 
 tales invented by Munchausen. 
 
 Impatient to arrange our route, after 
 a breakfast in the hotel courtyard we 
 went directly to the individual known 
 as "Bennett." "Bennett? Who is 
 Bennett? " the reader perhaps exclaims, 
 My friend, there is but one Norway, 
 and Bennett is its prophet. Bennett 
 theZe™r,end. is the living encyclopaedia of Norway; 
 
 S»^ 
 
 ■ 
 
14 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 its animated map; its peripatetic guide-book. Nor is this 
 all. He is the traveler's guide, philosopher, and friend. 
 He sketches lengthy tours back and forth as easily as sailors 
 box the compass; tells him which roads to take and which 
 to avoid; sends word ahead for carriages and horses; 
 engages rooms for him within the Arctic circle; for- 
 wards his letters, so that he may read them by the mid- 
 night sun; gives him a list of carriage-coupons which the 
 coachmen cry for; and (more important still) so plans his 
 
 3BBWS 
 
 A NORTHEKN LANDSCAPE. 
 
 numerous arrivals and departures on the 
 coast that he shall always find a train or steamer there 
 awaiting him. This is a most essential thing in Norway. 
 As a rule, Norwegian time-tables are about as difficult 
 to decipher as the inscriptions on a Chinese tea-caddy. Even 
 Bradshaw, the author of that English railway guide which 
 is tin: cause of so much apoplexy, came here to Norway 
 a few years ago, and died in trying to make out its post-road 
 and railway system. Some think that it was a judgment 
 
IN NORWAY. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 i/ 
 
 on him. At all events, his grave is near Christiania, and he 
 sleeps, while the "globe-trotter," whom he long befriended, 
 still rushes to and fro. 
 
 Although an Englishman by birth, "Bennett" has been 
 for fifty years a resident of Norway, and is a blessing to all 
 travelers in that country. At first he gave his services gratu- 
 itously; but as the tourists began to multiply, he found that 
 such disinterestedness was impossible. He at length made 
 a business of it, and year by year it has steadily increased. 
 
 A new edition of his guide-book comes out every season ; 
 and to still further help the public, he has begotten four 
 young Bennetts, who act as courteous agents for their 
 father, in Bergen, Trondhjem, and Christiania. He has 
 no "personally conducted 
 parties." He has no wish 
 to go outside of Norway. 
 But here, on account of 
 the peculiar style of travel- 
 ing, and the difficulty of the 
 language, it certainly is a 
 great convenience to employ 
 him. 
 
 Our arrangements with 
 this guardian of Norwegian 
 tourists having at length 
 been concluded, we strolled 
 for some time through Chris- 
 tiania's streets. It is a clean 
 and cheerful city, though it 
 can boast of little architect- 
 ural beauty. The Royal 
 Palace is its finest building, 
 but even this, on close in- 
 spection, proves to be more 
 
 CHRISTIANIA FJORD. 
 
i8 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 THE PALACE AT CHRISTIANIA. 
 
 useful than or- 
 namental, and 
 well suited to a 
 nation forced to 
 practice strict 
 economy. In 
 inspecting the 
 structure it is 
 interesting to 
 remember h o w 
 i n d e p e n d e n t 
 Norway is of Sweden, although both countries are governed 
 by one King, The Parliament in Christiania is wholly sepa- 
 rate from that of Stockholm. No Swede may hold political 
 office here. Even the power of the King is limited ; for 
 if a bill is passed three times in the Norwegian Parliament, 
 then, notwithstanding the royal veto, it becomes law. 
 
 Moreover, in accordance with the Constitution, the King 
 of Sweden and Norway must be crowned in Norway ; he must 
 reside here three months in the year; here, also, he must 
 open Parliament in person, and hold receptions, for no Nor- 
 wegian wishes to go to Stockholm for a presentation to 
 his sovereign. In this portion of his realm, also, he must 
 be addressed as "King of Norway and Sweden," not of 
 "Sweden and ^ ■"■^■^^k. Norway." A 
 
 certain rival- ^^^ ^^^ ry still ex- 
 
 ists be- ^r - ' ^^^ tween 
 
 these Jr m . , fli mA^— m<m^— I Mi two 
 
 A VIEW NEAB CHRISTIANIA 
 
NORWAY 
 
 19 
 
 AN AMBIGUOUS SIGN. 
 
 nations. Norwegians 
 sometimes say : "We love 
 the English, and drink 
 tea; the Swedes love 
 the French, and drink 
 coffee ! " 
 
 One of the first things 
 that attracted my atten- 
 tion in my walks through 
 Christiania was the pe- 
 culiar sign, " Rum for 
 Resande." Judge not, however, from appearances in this 
 strange language of the north. It is said that not long ago 
 an English-speaking traveler of strong prohibition principles 
 was horrified at seeing this announcement frequently displayed. 
 
 " What does that last word ' Resande ' mean?" he asked 
 suspiciously. 
 
 " Travelers," was the reply. 
 
 "Rum for travelers!" he exclaimed. "Oh, this is ter- 
 rible! What an insult to the traveling public! Now I, for one, 
 protest against such misrepresentation. I am a traveler, but 
 I never take a drop of rum." 
 
 A BIT OF NORWAY. 
 
20 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 LAKE MJOSEN. 
 
 " Not quite 
 so fast," re- 
 joined a Nor- 
 wegian, w h o 
 was laughing 
 heartily; ' that 
 first word 
 means, not 
 rum, but rooms; 
 the whole sen- 
 tence, there- 
 fore, merely 
 signifies, ' lodg- 
 ing for travel- 
 ers.' " Eager 
 to start upon 
 
 our northward journey, we left some interesting features in 
 Christiania for a later visit, and on a beautiful June morn- 
 ing set out for the coast. The train conveyed us in two 
 hours to Lake Mjosen, where we embarked upon a little 
 steamer. From that time on, al- 
 though continually traveling, we 
 saw no more railways for a month. 
 This lovely sheet of water has a 
 marvelous depth, its bed, in places, 
 being one thousand feet below the 
 level of the sea. This fact grows 
 more mysterious when we remem- 
 ber that on the occasion of the 
 Lisbon earthquake, in 1755, the 
 waters of this lake, although so 
 remote from Portugal, were so ter- 
 ribly disturbed, that they rose 
 suddenly to the height of twenty 
 
NORWAY 
 
 2 I 
 
 feet, and then as 
 suddenly sub- 
 sided. 
 
 It was while 
 sailing on the 
 waters of Lake 
 Mjosen that we 
 had another curi- 
 ous linguistic ex- 
 perience. Next 
 to Norwegian or 
 Swedish, English 
 is best under- 
 stood and spoken 
 by the natives-, especially among the seafaring population. 
 We did not know this fact at first, and as we had just come 
 from Germany, it seemed more natural to address the people 
 in the Teutonic tongue. You know the German word for 
 bright or clear is "hell." Accordingly, desiring to ask the 
 captain if he thought that the weather would be fine, my friend 
 
 IN THE HEAKT OF NOK\\A\. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 stepped up to him, and pointing to the sky, said interroga- 
 tively, " Hell? "' 
 
 "No," replied the captain, in perfectly good English, 
 " hell doesn't lie in that direction! " 
 
 A sail of several hours here through charming scenery 
 brought us at last to the place where we were to disembark. 
 Hardly had I set foot upon the pier, when a man accosted 
 me in good, familiar English: 
 
 " Just step this way, sir, if you please," he said; " the car- 
 riage ordered for you by Mr. Bennett is all ready." 
 
 This surely was a pleasant introduction. There was no 
 
 trouble whatsoever — no bargaining, no delay. In fifteen 
 
 minutes we had started on our four days' journey to the sea. 
 
 Between Christiania and the western coast is a broad 
 
 mountain range extending hundreds of miles north and south. 
 
 No railroad crosses that 
 gigantic barrier. True, 
 the town of Trondhjem, 
 in the north, can now be 
 reached circuitously by 
 rail. But all the great 
 southwestern coast, in- 
 cluding the towns of Ber- 
 gen and Molde, and the 
 large fjords, can only be 
 approached by several 
 magnificent highways, of 
 which the finest here 
 awaited us, the one ex- 
 tending for a hundred 
 and sixty miles from Lake 
 Mjosen to the Songe fjord. And here one naturally asks, 
 '•' What is the mode of traveling in Norway? Where do you 
 eat? Where do you sleep? Do you take horses for the entire 
 
 
giETERSDALEN. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 
 
 journey, or from day to day?" It is easily explained. All 
 these Norwegian highways are divided into sections, each 
 about ten miles long. These sections have at one extremity 
 a "station" 
 
 (usually a farm- 
 house), the own- 
 er of which is 
 obliged by law 
 to give to travel- 
 ers food and 
 lodging, and also 
 to supply them 
 with fresh horses 
 to the next sta- 
 tion. 
 
 These Nor- 
 wegian post- 
 houses are in- 
 variably made of 
 wood, sometimes elaborately carved and decorated. As you 
 approach the door, some member of the family greets you, 
 frequently in English, since many of these people have been in 
 America. If you desire to spend the night, you ask for rooms. 
 If you merely require dinner, you can be quickly served; 
 or if your purpose is to drive on still farther, you simply 
 order fresh horses. For these we never waited more than 
 fifteen minutes, though sometimes, in the height of the season, 
 serious delays take place. On this account it is better to pre- 
 cede the crowd of tourists, and visit Norway early in the 
 summer. Such has been my experience, at least; and judg- 
 ing from some stories I have heard of tourists sleeping 
 on the floor and dressing on the back piazza, I should em- 
 phatically recommend this rule to all adventurers in the land 
 of Thor. 
 
 FINE NORWEGIAN STATION. 
 
26 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 
 But speaking 
 of Norwegian 
 post-stations re- 
 minds one of the 
 characteristic ve- 
 hicle of Norway, 
 — the cariole. 
 This is by no 
 means a "carry- 
 all." It is a little gig, intended for only one person. True, 
 the boy (or, in some instances, the girl) who takes the horse 
 back after you have done with it, rides behind. His seat is 
 your valise, and his weight determines the subsequent con- 
 dition of its contents! There is a charming lightness in these 
 cariolcs. The springs are good, and the seat is easy. A 
 leather apron reaches to your waist to shield you from the 
 dust or rain; and, drawn by a Norwegian pony, such a drive 
 is wonderfully exhilarating. 
 
 These little carriages have, however, one great fault, — 
 their want of sociability. The linguistic powers of a Norwe- 
 gian post-boy are extremely limited; and when you have 
 ridden ten hours 
 a day, unable to 
 exchange a word 
 with your friends 
 except by shout- 
 ing, the drive be- 
 comes a trifle 
 wearisome. But 
 the reader may 
 ask : "Is there 
 not sometimes 
 great discomfort 
 in traveling by 
 
 THE NATIONAL VEHICLE. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 -7 
 
 LUXURY IN NORWAY. 
 
 canoles in rainy 
 weather? " As- 
 suredly there is. 
 But in such 
 weather one is 
 not obliged to 
 take a cariole. 
 Norway has 
 other vehicles. 
 We drove, for 
 
 example, about a hundred and thirty miles in a sort of 
 victoria, the rear of which could be entirely covered in 
 case of rain. This, all in all, I hold to be the best con- 
 veyance for the tourist in Norway, especially when ladies 
 are of the party. I know that such a carriage is considered 
 too luxurious by the English; but I am sure that Ameri- 
 can ladies will gain more pleasure and profit from Norwegian 
 travel if they do not attempt to drive all day in carioles; 
 and if beneath the canopy provided they keep their cloth- 
 ing dry. 
 
 At home we would not think of driving forty miles a day 
 in an open wagon through the rain; why, then, should 
 we do it unnecessarily in Norway, 
 where showers are proverbially both 
 frequent and copious? As for the fun 
 and novelty of cariole-riding, these 
 can always be had, for several hours 
 at a time, between one station and 
 another, even if one has engaged a 
 larger carriage for the entire journey, 
 for the cost of a cariole and pony for 
 half a day is ludicrously small, and 
 the change to it, occasionally, well 
 repays the slight expenditure. 
 
 A PEASANT GIRL. 
 
28 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 But in thus speaking of the cariole, I have unwittingly 
 put the cart before the horse. A word of praise must certainly 
 be given to the usual Norwegian steed. Of all the ponies I 
 have ever seen, these of Norway are at once the strongest, 
 
 A NORWEGIAN PONY. 
 
 prettiest, and. most lovable. They are usually of a delicate 
 cream color, with one dark line along the back, the mane 
 being always closely cut. These ponies are employed in Norway 
 almost universally, being not only less expensive but really 
 more en- 
 during than 
 the larger 
 horses. For 
 w e e k s we 
 drove behind 
 these little 
 animals, till 
 we had test- 
 ed certainly 
 seventy- five 
 
 of them, and never once did we observe in any of them the 
 slightest ugliness or a vicious trait. They are, moreover, won- 
 derfully sure-footed. I never saw one stumble or go lame. 
 Possibly, later in the season, when much over-worked, they 
 
 I ARM SCE '. I' . 
 
NORWAY 
 
 29 
 
 t% 
 
 Irani 
 
 If Ml 
 
 may not have the spirit which we found in them; but in our 
 drives of more than two hundred miles there was not one 
 which did not cheerfully re- 
 spond to any call. 
 
 This being premised, let 
 us really begin our jour- 
 ney. At first we found the 
 scenery more beautiful than 
 grand. In many places I 
 could have believed myself 
 in portions of either of the 
 American states of New 
 Hampshire or Vermont. 
 Across the fields I often 
 noticed long, dark lines 
 which, in the distance, look- 
 ed like hedges. On ex- 
 amination, however, these 
 proved to be wooden fences, 
 covered with new - mown 
 grass; for, in this way, Nor- 
 wegian farmers ''make hay 
 while the sun shines." Some 
 of these fences are very low, 
 but others have considerable 
 height. Norwegian farmers 
 claim that grass hung thus, 
 and thoroughly exposed to 
 wind and sun, will shed the 
 rain and dry more quickly 
 than if left upon the ground. 
 Their theory seems reasonable, and the extent of the hay 
 crop, which is very important, further justifies it. There is 
 one other argument in favor of these hay-racks, — during 
 
 A MAl'D MILLER. 
 
3Q 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 all other seasons of the year they serve as clothes-lines for 
 the family washing. But even more peculiar than the fences 
 were the vehicles used for hauling the hay into Norwe- 
 gian barns. We 
 laughed at first 
 sight of these 
 rustic carts. 
 They are only a 
 trifle larger than 
 a good- sized 
 cradle, and are 
 perched upon 
 the smallest 
 wheels I ever 
 saw on anything except a toy. Yet there is good reason 
 for their use, for on Norwegian farms the loads are drawn, 
 not by stout oxen, but by little ponies. 
 Moreover, the grass is often cut from 
 the edge of precipices, or in deep 
 ravines, and these low carts are 
 certainly better adapted than high 
 and heavy ones for locomotion in 
 such regions. 
 
 While thus absorbed in agri- 
 cultural reflections, we drove up to 
 the house where we were to take 
 supper. A pleasant-featured girl, 
 with a baby in her arms, invited 
 us to enter. She spoke Eng- 
 lish perfectly, having been born, 
 as we learned, in Minneapolis. 
 I shall never forget that first Norwegian supper. The name 
 for the evening mea ] j n Norway is "aftenmad," but often- 
 mad would better express it in English. First, there were 
 
 AT A FARM HOI'S E. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 3i 
 
 placed before us five different kinds of cheese, the most 
 remarkable of which was a tall monument of chocolate-colored 
 substance made from goat's milk. This, by Norwegians, 
 is considered perfectly delicious; but for a month I shuddered 
 at it regularly three times a day. Next was brought in a jar 
 containing fish. At this my friend smiled joyfully. 
 
 A NORWEGIAN HAY-FIELD. 
 
 "Ah," he exclaimed, "here is fish! Anything in the 
 line of fish I can eat with a relish." 
 
 He drew a specimen from the jar, and put a portion 
 of it in his mouth. A look of horror instantly overspread 
 his face, and, covering his features with a napkin, he left 
 the room in haste. I quickly followed him, and found him 
 in the back yard gazing mournfully at some Norwegian swine. 
 
 "What is the matter?" I asked, "do you prefer pork 
 to fish? " 
 
 " I believe I do," he rejoined. Then turning to the girl, 
 who had followed us, he inquired, "What is the Norwegian 
 word for pork? " 
 
32 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 "Griss, "* was 
 
 the reply. 
 
 "Thank you, " 
 he faltered, " I 
 don't think I 
 will take any to- 
 day. " 
 
 ' ' Eh ' ' (in an 
 aside to me), 
 " had n't vvc bet- 
 ter drive on? " 
 
 Dri 
 
 ve on i 
 
 ■ DO YOU PREFER PORK TO FISH ? " 
 
 I cried. " Drive 
 on, when there 
 is plenty of fish, which you always eat with so much relish? " 
 
 " Great heavens! " he groaned, " that was too much even 
 for me. It was a raw anchovy dipped in vinegar." 
 
 While this colloquy was taking place, we re-entered the 
 dining-room and asked for bread. We were amazed to see 
 what this request brought forth. Upon a plate almost 
 as large as the wheel of a Norwegian hay-cart was brought 
 to us a mound of circular wafers nearly three feet in circum- 
 ference, and each about as thick as one of our buckwheat cakes. 
 
 * Pronounced as is our English word grease. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 33 
 
 They were made of rye meal and water (chiefly water), and 
 were so crisp that they would break to pieces at a touch. 
 This is called " flatbrod," and it is certainly in every sense the 
 flattest article ever invented for the human stomach. The 
 people, however, are fond of it, and I saw horses eat it fre- 
 quently, mistaking it (quite naturally, I am sure) for tablets 
 of compressed hay. 
 
 But here I shall probably be asked, " Is this the usual 
 state of things in Norway?" No, this first station was 
 unusually poor. The staple article of food in Norway 
 (always fresh and good) is salmon. Milk and sweet butter 
 can also be had, and eggs ad libitum. In fact, the abund- 
 ance of eggs here is probably responsible for the atrocious 
 witticism often perpetrated by Norwegian tourists, to the 
 effect that "if the sun does not set in Norway, hens do." 
 Mutton and beef are not obtainable, save at the large hotels, 
 their places being usually supplied by veal, sausage meat, 
 or reindeer hash. I met, while traveling here, an Englishman, 
 who said to me, "I did intend to drive on to Christiania; 
 
 NORWAY SCENERY 
 
34 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 but I really can't, you know; another month of this would 
 kill me. In the last two weeks I have eaten so many of these 
 ' blasted eggs ' that I 'm ashamed to look a hen in the face! " 
 Yet, notwithstanding the hardships which the traveler meets 
 in Norway in regard to food, he will find all discomforts 
 
 easily outweigh- 
 ed by the en- 
 joyment of the 
 trip. The con- 
 stant exercise in 
 the open air 
 gives powers 
 of digestion 
 hitherto un- 
 known, pre- 
 ceded by an ap- 
 petite which 
 laughs at every- 
 thing, 
 
 save cheese. Of 
 course, being so 
 far from any city, one cannot look for luxuries at these 
 small stations; indeed, I was surprised to find that the 
 peasants knew enough to give us, during a meal, several 
 knives and forks, hot plates, and other features of a well- 
 served table. And as far as prices are concerned, they are so 
 moderate as to provoke a smile from any one accustomed to 
 travel in other parts of Europe. 
 
 Yes, all ordinary discomforts sink into insignificance, 
 as I recall those memorable drives, day after day and hour 
 after hour, oxer lofty mountains, through noble forests, and 
 beside stupendous cliffs, the only sounds about us being 
 the songs of birds and the perpetual melody of numberless 
 cascades. Moreover, this mode of travel gave us the energy 
 
 A TKAVELEK S FAKADISE. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 35 
 
 of athletes. For how can I describe the invigoration and 
 sweetness of this Norway air, — pure from these miles of 
 mountains, — rich with the fragrance of a billion pines, and 
 freshened by its passage over northern glaciers and the Arctic 
 sea? 
 
 As for the roads in Norway, they are among the finest 
 in the world. The majority of them are flanked with tele- 
 graph-poles; for not only are these routes magnificent speci- 
 mens of man's triumph over nature, but the lightning also 
 is controlled here, and, swift as light, thought wings its way 
 upon a metal wire through this inland waste, — a marvel 
 always wonderful and ever new. Nature has given to these 
 scenes the trees 
 and rocks which 
 yield to nothing 
 but the wintry 
 blasts. Man 
 has suspended 
 here a thread 
 of steel, which 
 thrills respons- 
 ive to the 
 thoughts of 
 thousands, 
 transmitting 
 t h r o u g h this 
 gloomy gorge 
 t h e messages 
 of love, hope, 
 
 exultation, or despair. Thus even here one can never feel 
 completely isolated. That little wire enables one at any point 
 to vanquish space, and by placing, as it were, a finger on the 
 pulse of life, to feel the heart-beats of the world. 
 
 In 1888, two American gentlemen were traveling in Norway, 
 
 A NORWEGIAN HIGHWAY. 
 
36 NORWAY 
 
 one of whom grew depressed at his apparent isolation from 
 humanity. His comrade, to astonish and console him, tele- 
 graphed from one of the post-houses where they had stopped 
 for dinner, to the American consul at Christiania. The 
 message which he sent was this: 
 
 
 m ftr* 
 
 j& ?■ 
 
 APPARENT ISOLATION. 
 
 " Who was the Democratic nominee for President yester- 
 day in Chicago? " 
 
 Before the meal was finished, the answer had arrived: 
 
 " Grover Cleveland." 
 
 Some of the roads on which we traveled here are cut 
 directly through the mountains. We found such tunnels 
 quite agreeable, since they furnished the only genuine dark- 
 ness to be found. So far as light is concerned, one may drive 
 through Norway in the summer just as well by night as by 
 day. Early and late indeed are words which in this region 
 grow meaningless. I could not keep a diary in Norway, so 
 difficult was it to tell when yesterday ended and to-day 
 
NORWAY 
 
 3/ 
 
 began. At first this seemed a great economy of time. We 
 felt that we were getting some advantage over Mother 
 Nature. "Why not drive on another twenty miles?" we 
 asked; " we can enjoy the scenery just as well; " or, " Why 
 not write a few letters now? It 
 
 In fact, why 
 
 at all?" 
 
 after 
 
 is still light, 
 go to bed 
 But 
 
 A LAND OF PEEl'ETl'AL SUNLIGHT. 
 
 a time 
 
 this everh 
 
 ing daylight grew 
 
 a trifle wearisome. 
 
 It thoroughly demoralized both our brains and our stomachs, 
 
 from the unheard of hours it occasioned for eating and 
 
 sleeping. Steamers will start in Norway at five o'clock 
 
 in the morning, or even at midnight. I once sat down 
 
 to a table d ' hotc dinner at half-past nine, and on another 
 
 occasion ate a lunch in broad daylight at two o'clock in the 
 
 morning. Moreover, even when we went to bed the sun's 
 
33 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 rays stole be- 
 tween our eye- 
 lids, and dis- 
 pelled that 
 darkness which 
 induces slum- 
 ber . For, 
 strangely 
 enough, there 
 are rarely any 
 blinds or shut- 
 ters to Norwe- 
 gian windows. 
 Only a thin, 
 white curtain 
 screened us 
 usually from the glare of day. After a while, therefore, I 
 could sympathize with an American lady, whom I heard 
 
 NORWEGIAN BOILDEKS. 
 
 
NORWAY 
 
 39 
 
 exclaim, " O, I would give anything for a good, pitch-dark 
 night twenty -four hours long! " 
 
 One characteristic of these roads made on my mind a 
 profound impres- 
 sion, namely, the 
 boulders that have 
 been split off from 
 overhanging peaks 
 by frost and ava- 
 lanche. This is a 
 feature of Norwe- 
 gian scenery that 
 I have never seen 
 equaled in the 
 world. Sometimes 
 we drove through 
 such debris for half 
 an hour. Nor is 
 there the least ex- 
 aggeration in the 
 statement that 
 these boulders are 
 in many instances 
 as large as a house ; 
 yet, when compar- 
 ed with the gigan- 
 tic cliffs from which 
 they came, even 
 such monsters 
 seemed like pebbles. Some of fhese cliffs were frightful in 
 appearance. Again and again, when we had passed beneath 
 some precipice, one third of whose mass seemed only waiting 
 for a thunder-peal to bring it down, my friend and I would 
 draw a long, deep breath, and exchange glances of congratu- 
 
 A NORWAY FRF.CIPICE. 
 
4 o 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 A CHARACTERISTIC CASCADE. 
 
 lation when we had 
 escaped its terrors. 
 
 A still more won- 
 derful feature of Nor- 
 wegian scenery is found 
 in its imposing water- 
 falls. Nothing in Nor- 
 way so astonished me 
 as the unending num- 
 ber and variety of its 
 cascades, — ribbons of 
 silver, usually, in the 
 distance, but foaming 
 torrents close at hand. 
 On any of these roads, 
 halt for a moment and 
 listen, and you will often hear a sound like that of the 
 surf upon the shore. It is the voice of falling water. 
 
 On our jour- 
 ney toward the 
 coast, during a 
 drive of three 
 days we count- 
 ed one hundred 
 and sixty sepa- 
 rate falls, and 
 eighty - six in 
 the previous 
 ten hours. This 
 was an average 
 of more than 
 two in every 
 fifteen minutes. 
 True, we saw 
 
 A THING OF BEAUTY. 
 
VIEW NEAR BORGUND. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 43 
 
 these cascades in the month of June, when snow was melting 
 rapidly on the heights; but even in midsummer they must 
 far outnumber those in any other part of Europe. 
 
 In fact, although familiar with the Alps, and having driven 
 twice through all the valleys of the Pyrenees, I never knew 
 how many waterfalls one country could possess until I went 
 to Norway. There are, of course, magnificent falls in Switzer- 
 land, and a great number of them in the Pyrenees; but where 
 you there see one cas- 
 cade, in Norway you 
 see twenty ; and many 
 a Norwegian cataract 
 which would in Switz- 
 erland draw thousands 
 of admiring tourists, 
 and make the fortune 
 of hotel proprietors, is 
 here, perhaps, without 
 a name, and certainly 
 without renown. 
 
 On our last day's 
 journe y toward the 
 sea, we came in sight 
 of an extraordinary 
 building, on which we gazed in great astonishment, for it 
 seemed more appropriate to China than to Norway, and 
 was apparently completely out of place in this wild, 
 desolate ravine. It was the famous Borgund Church, a 
 place of early Christian worship, built about eight hundred 
 years ago. It therefore ranks (unless one other similar church 
 be excepted) as the oldest structure in all Norway. It is so 
 small that one could almost fancy it a church for dwarfs. 
 Around the base is a kind of cloister, from which the dim 
 interior receives its only light. Within is one small room, 
 
 BORGVND CHVRCH. 
 
44 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 A GIRL OF NOR\YA\. 
 
 scarcely forty feet long, con- 
 taining now no furniture save 
 a rough-hewn altar. As for 
 its various roofs and pinna- 
 cles, marked now by crosses, 
 now by dragons' heads, noth- 
 ing could be more weirdly 
 picturesque, especially as the 
 entire edifice is black, — in 
 part from age, but chiefly 
 from the coats of tar with 
 which it has been painted for 
 protection. 
 
 Leaving this ancient church, 
 we soon found ourselves in one 
 
 of the most stupendous of Norwegian gorges. It is hardly 
 
 possible for any view to do it justice. But for awe-inspiring 
 
 grandeur I have never seen its magnificence surpassed, even 
 
 in the Via Mala. For miles 
 
 the r i v e r Laerdal makes 
 
 its way here through gi- 
 gantic cliffs, which rise on 
 
 either side to a height of 
 
 from four thousand to five 
 
 thousand feet. The space, 
 
 however, between these 
 
 mountain sides is barely 
 
 wide enough for the river, 
 
 which writhes and struggles 
 
 with obstructing boulders, 
 
 lashing itself to creamy 
 
 foam, and filling the chasm 
 
 with a deafening roar. Yet, 
 
 above the river, a roadway 
 
 AN OPEN-AIR BOUDOIR. 
 
SELTUNSAASEN IN LAERDAL. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 47 
 
 ;ding place. 
 
 has been hewn 
 out of the moun- 
 tain-side itself, 
 which is lined 
 with parapets of 
 boulders. When 
 marking out the 
 route the engi- 
 neers were often 
 lowered over 
 the precipice by ropes. One can imagine nothing more 
 exciting than this drive. When mountains did not actually 
 overshadow us, in looking aloft we could discern only a 
 narrow rift of sky, like a blue river, curbed by granite banks. 
 Below us was the seething flood, at once terrible and glor- 
 ious to look upon. Shut in by these huge, somber walls, we 
 followed all the windings of the stream, whirling about their 
 corners at a speed which seemed the more terrific from our 
 wild surroundings. There are few things in life that have 
 affected me so powerfully as the Laerdal gorge, and I would 
 once more go to Norway for that drive alone. Certain it is 
 that at the end of it we found ourselves exhausted, not phy- 
 sically, but nervously, from the tremendous tension and 
 excitement of the last few hours in this wild ravine. Finally, 
 
 LAERDALSOBEN 
 
4 8 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 leaving this sublime mountain scenery, we saw between us 
 and the coast our destination — the little town of Laerdal- 
 soren. Thrilled though we were with memories of what we 
 had just seen, and grateful, too, that our long drive from 
 sea to sea had been successfully completed, our serious 
 reflections vanished at the threshold of this village. My 
 companion had found it hard to be so long deprived of 
 news from home. Accordingly, he remarked to me as we 
 came in sight of Laerdalsoren : 
 
 " I somehow feel to-day a great anxiety about my boys, 
 William and Henry. I am not superstitious, but I have 
 a presentiment that they need me. Hark!" he said sud- 
 denly, " what \s that? " 
 
 We stopped the vehicle and listened. It was the music 
 of an English hand-organ ; and I am speaking only the literal 
 truth when I say that the tune which we then heard it play 
 was that of " Father, dear father, come home with me now." 
 
 A1T1NG J-OK TOURISTS. 
 
 ■:_- 
 
NORWAY 
 
 49 
 
 
 Early next morning we left our good hotel and hastened 
 to the steamer which awaited us upon the fjord. "What, 
 precisely, is a fjord? " some may inquire. In briefest terms, 
 it is a mountain gorge connected with the ocean, a narrow 
 arm of the sea extending inland, sometimes for one hundred 
 miles. Moreover, to carry out the simile, at the extremity of 
 
 every such Ions- 
 
 arm are " fin- 
 gers; " that is, 
 still narrower ex- 
 tensions, which 
 wind about the 
 bases of the 
 mountains till 
 they seem like 
 glittering ser- 
 pents lying in 
 the shadow of 
 tremendous 
 cliffs. 
 
 Thus in one 
 sense, here at A FJ0RD - 
 
 Laerdalsoren, we had reached the sea, but in another, it 
 was still eighty-five miles away. Yet we were now to 
 embark on a large ocean steamer, lying but a few yards 
 from the shore, for these mysterious fjords are sometimes 
 quite as deep as the mountains over them are high. They 
 open thus the very heart of Norway to the commerce 
 of the world. And as our steamer glided from one moun- 
 tain-girdled basin into another, I realized why this western 
 coast of Norway is one of the most remarkable land-forma- 
 tions on the globe. If we were able to look down upon it 
 from an elevation, we should perceive that from the moun- 
 tain chain, which forms, as it were, the backbone of the coun- 
 
50 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 try, a multitude of grooves stretch downward to the shore 
 between the elevations, like spaces between the teeth of a comb. 
 Into these mountain crevices, formed in the misty ages of the 
 past, the sea now makes its way, continually growing narrower, 
 until at last it winds between frowning cliffs of fearful height, 
 down which stream numerous waterfalls, the spray from which 
 
 at times sweeps 
 over the steamer 
 as it glides along. 
 Traveling, there- 
 fore, on these 
 ocean avenues 
 is like sailing 
 
 AN ARM OF THK SEA. 
 
 through Switzer- 
 land. 
 
 Delighted be- 
 yond measure 
 with this new ex- 
 perience, some 
 two or three 
 hours after leav- 
 ing Laerdalsoren, we gradually approached the most sublime 
 of all these ocean highways, — the Naerofjord. No general 
 view can possibly portray its grandeur. The only way to 
 appreciate the vastness of its well-nigh perpendicular cliffs 
 is to compare them with some objects on the banks. In 
 many places, for example, cattle grazing on the shore, com- 
 pared with their giant environment, seemed like mice, and a 
 church steeple appeared no larger than a pine-cone. 
 
 As we sailed further up this beautiful expanse, it was 
 difficult to realize that we were floating on an arm of the 
 
 SAILING THROUGH SWITZERLAND. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 b 5 
 
 Atlantic. It had the appearance rather of a gloomy lake 
 shut in by mountains never trodden by the foot of man. 
 On either side was a solemn array of stupendous precipices — 
 sheer, awful cliffs — refusing even the companionship of pines 
 and hemlocks, and frequently resembling a long chain of ice- 
 bergs turned to stone. The silence, too, was most impressive. 
 There was, at times, no sign of life on sea or shore. The influ- 
 ence of this was 
 felt upon the 
 boat, for if any 
 of us spoke, it 
 was in a tone 
 subdued by the 
 solemnity of our 
 surroundings. 
 
 As we pur- 
 sued our way. 
 sometimes we 
 could discern no 
 outlet whatever; 
 then, suddenly, 
 our course 
 would turn, and 
 another glorious vista would appear before us. We sat 
 at the prow of the boat ; and there, with nothing but the 
 awe-inspiring prospect to contemplate, we sailed along in silence 
 through this liquid labyrinth. So close together were the cliffs, 
 that when, for the sake of the experiment, I lay down on the 
 deck and looked directly upward, I could at the same instant 
 see both sides of the fjord cutting their outlines sharply on the 
 sky! Mile after mile, these grim, divided mountains stood 
 gazing into each other's scowling faces, yet kept apart by this 
 enchanting barrier of the sea, as some fair woman intervenes 
 between two opposing rivals, each thirsting for the other's 
 
54 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 blood. It is such scenery as Dante might describe and Dore 
 illustrate. We wondered what such ravines would look 
 like without water. 
 They would be ter- 
 rible to gaze 
 
 WALLS OF A FJORD. 
 
 upon. They would resemble 
 gashes in a dead man's face, 
 or chasms on the surface of 
 the moon, devoid of atmos- 
 phere and life. But water 
 gives to them vitality, and 
 lights up all their gloomy gorges with a silvery flood, much 
 as a smile illumines, while it softens, a furrowed face. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 57 
 
 Nor is the 
 water in these 
 fjords less mar- 
 velous than the 
 land. Its depth, 
 in places, is es- 
 timated at three 
 thousand feet. 
 When we sailed 
 up the Naero- 
 fjord, its color 
 was so green, 
 and its surface 
 so completely 
 motionless, that 
 we seemed to 
 be gliding over a highway paved with malachite. Whether 
 the coloring of these ocean avenues is due to their great depth, 
 to the crystal clearness of the atmosphere, or to the reflection 
 of the forests on their banks, certain it is that I have nowhere 
 else (save in the blue grotto 
 at Capri) seen water tinted 
 with such shades of robin 's- 
 egg blue and emerald green. 
 In confirmation of this fact, 
 
 HEIGHTS AND DEPTHS. 
 
 AN OCEAN AVENUE. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 A SUBLIME WATERFALL. 
 
 we noticed with astonishment 
 that whenever the white seagulls, 
 wheeling round our boat, would 
 sink breast downward toward 
 the waves, the color of the sea 
 was so intense, that their white 
 wings distinctly changed their 
 hue in the reflected light, assum- 
 ing a most delicate tint, which 
 gradually vanished as they rose 
 again ! 
 
 After a sail of several hours, 
 we approached the terminus of 
 the Naerofjord, at which is lo- 
 cated the little hamlet of Gudvan- 
 gen. So narrow is the valley 
 here, that through the winter 
 months no ray of sunlight falls 
 directly on the town, and even in 
 the longest day in summer it can 
 receive the sunshine only for a 
 few hours. It seemed depressing 
 to remain in such eternal shadow. 
 Accordingly, we halted only a 
 few moments at the place, and 
 taking a carriage which awaited 
 us, we drove beyond the village 
 into the ravine so celebrated for 
 its grandeur — the Naerodal. One 
 sees at once that this is really a 
 continuation of the Naerofjord 
 without the water. There can 
 be little doubt that, formerly, the 
 ocean entered it, and one could 
 
NORWAY 
 
 61 
 
 then have sailed where we now had to drive. And what 
 is true of the Naerodal is also true of other such ravines. In 
 every case the grooved hollows continue inland and upward, 
 but the gradual elevation of the coast has caused the ocean 
 to retreat. This is a place of great sublimity. On either 
 side rise mountains from four to five thousand feet in height — 
 sometimes without a vestige of vegetation on their precipitous 
 sides — w h i c h 
 are, however, 
 seamed with 
 numberless cas- 
 cades, appar- 
 ently hung up- 
 on the cliffs like 
 silver chains. 
 
 The most 
 remarkable ob- 
 ject in the val- 
 ley we found to 
 be a peculiarly 
 shaped moun- 
 tain, called the 
 Jordalsnut. Its 
 form is that of 
 
 a gigantic thimble, and as its composition is a silvery feld- 
 spar, it fairly glitters in the sun, or glows resplendent in the 
 evening light, — an object never to be forgotten. Those who 
 have looked upon this dome by moonlight say that the effect 
 is indescribable; and, in fact, moonlight in these awful gorges 
 and fjords must give to them a beauty even more weird and 
 startling than that of day. Of this, however, I cannot speak 
 from experience, since moonlight is in summer very faint 
 in Norway, and it is only earlier or later in the year that 
 one can see this wonderful country thus transfigured. 
 
 THE NAERODAL. 
 
62 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 In driving up the Naerodal, one sees, at the head of the 
 valley, what looks like an irregular chalk-line on a blackboard. 
 It is a famous carriage-road, which has been blasted out of the 
 mountain-side, and built up everywhere with solid masonry. 
 Even now it is so difficult of ascent for horses that every trav- 
 eler who is able 
 usually climbs 
 that cur v i n g 
 road on foot. 
 
 In doing so, 
 we stopped at 
 intervals to en- 
 joy the marvel- 
 ous scenery, and 
 especially to be- 
 hold the two at- 
 tractive features 
 of the mountain. 
 For this grand 
 terminus of the 
 Naerodal is 
 flanked on either 
 side by a magnif- 
 icent waterfall ; 
 and since the 
 path continually 
 curves, one or 
 the other of these torrents is constantly visible. Either of 
 them is the equal of any Swiss cascade I ever saw, and makes 
 even the famous Giessbach sink into insignificance, and yet 
 these are not ranked among the best Norwegian specimens. 
 We could not, however, appreciate them as we should have 
 done if they had been the first that we had seen; for when a 
 tourist has counted eighty-six cascades in one day's drive, 
 
 THE JORDALSNUT. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 63 
 
 STALHE1M. 
 
 and has just run 
 the gauntlet of 
 some twenty 
 more, in sailing 
 through the 
 Naerofjord, he 
 becomes sur- 
 feited with such 
 splendor, and 
 cannot properly 
 realize what a 
 glorious wealth 
 in this respect 
 Norwegian scen- 
 ery possesses. 
 
 U p on t h e 
 summit of the wooded cliff toward which this driveway leads, 
 is a speck which at a distance resembles a white flag out- 
 lined on the forest background. It is the Hotel Stalheim. 
 As we approached it, a man stepped up to us and exclaimed: 
 
 " Hullo, strang- 
 ers; are you 
 Americans? " 
 
 ' ' I am glad to 
 say that we are," 
 was my reply. 
 
 He instantly 
 stretched out 
 his hand and 
 said " Shake !"— 
 "What kind of 
 business are you 
 in ? " lie present- 
 
 THE VIEW KKOM STALHEIM. 
 
 ly inquired. 
 
6 4 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 THE KAISER AT STALHEIM. 
 
 We told him. 
 "Well," he re- 
 marked, " I 'm a 
 manufacturer of bar- 
 rel hoops. Norway 's 
 all right . I took 
 an order for forty 
 thousand yesterday. 
 
 At the dinner 
 table, where he had 
 greatly amused every 
 one by his stories, he 
 suddenly called out: 
 
 " Waiter, is there anything worth seeing on that 'ere road 
 
 down there? " 
 
 " It is one of the finest drives in Norway, sir," replied the 
 
 waiter. 
 
 " Well, I reckon I '11 have to do it, then," he ejaculated; 
 
 and soon after 
 
 dinner he de- 
 parted in a car- 
 
 iole. An hour 
 
 later, as I was 
 
 sitting on the 
 
 piazza gazing on 
 
 t h e g 1 o r i o u s 
 
 prospect, I saw 
 
 him c o m i n g 
 
 back. " How is 
 
 this?" I ex- 
 
 c 1 a i m e d ; "I 
 
 thought you 
 
 were going to 
 
 Gudvaneren. " 
 
 A SCENE NEAK STALHEIM. 
 
A LOVELY CASCADE. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 67 
 
 " No," he replied; " I got down here apiece, and met a 
 boy. ' Bub,' says I, 'what is there to see down here, any- 
 way ? ' 
 
 " ' Waterfalls,' said he. 
 
 " ' Waterfalls! ' says I, 'I don't want any more water- 
 falls. I 've seen ten thousand of them already. Why, our 
 Niagara wouldn't roar one mite louder, if the whole lot 
 of these Norwegian falls were chucked right into it.' ' 
 
 I must not fail to add that there was an extremely pretty 
 girl at the hotel, to whom our eccentric compatriot paid much 
 attention. Some English travelers, therefore, looked greatly 
 puzzled when they heard him say to her on taking leave: 
 "Good-by! I hope /'// strike you again somewhere on the 
 road ! ' ' 
 
 After supper that evening we took an extended walk. It 
 was eleven o'clock, and yet the snow-capped mountains which 
 surrounded us were radiant with the sunset glow. We pres- 
 ently encountered two young peasants returning from their 
 
 " GATES AJAR." 
 
68 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 work. To them we spoke a few Norsk words that we had 
 learned since coming to Norway, whereupon one of the lads 
 drew from his pocket a pamphlet and presented it to me with 
 a polite bow. It proved to be a book of phrases, half- Eng- 
 lish and half-Norsk, designed to help Norwegian emigrants 
 
 on landing in 
 America. Not 
 knowing, how- 
 ex - er, what it 
 was at first, I 
 opened it and 
 could hardly be- 
 lieve my eyes, 
 w hen, in this 
 lonely valley in 
 the heart of 
 Norway, and by 
 the light of a 
 midnight sun, 
 I read these 
 words: " Wake 
 
 ALL READY TO " SHAKE HANDS." 
 
 up 
 
 Here we are in Chicago!" "Change cars for Omaha 
 and the West! " " Don't lean out of the window, or you '11 
 have your head knocked off! 
 
 Both of these bright boys hoped the next summer to 
 " wake up in Chicago." It is, in fact, the great desire of 
 Norwegian youths to go to America, and some are brave 
 enough to do so with a capital of only twenty-five dollars. 
 Their knowledge of the United States is, of course, limited. 
 but one place there is known to all of them. .Again and 
 again we wire subjected to the following questions: "Are 
 you English? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Americans ? ' ' 
 
NORWAY 
 
 69 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Chicago? " 
 
 That was the place for them, evidently. New York is bet- 
 ter than nothing, but Chicago is the El Dorado of the Scan- 
 dinavians, for to that place they usually buy through-tickets, 
 as to the doorway of the great Northwest. 
 
 Leaving the Hotel Stalheim, after a short stay, a glorious 
 drive awaited us down to the Hardanger Fjord. At frequent 
 intervals along this route we encountered gates designed to 
 keep the cattle within certain limits. Women and children 
 usually stood near-by to open them, expecting in return a 
 trifling payment. Yet when I offered them a coin, I was 
 sometimes surprised to see their hands still lingering near my 
 own. At first I thought 
 that they, like Oliver Twist, 
 were asking for more, but 
 presently I discovered that 
 they merely wished to shake 
 hands and say good-by, for 
 hand-shaking in Norway is 
 universal. If you bestow a 
 fee upon your cariole-boy, 
 your boot-black, or your 
 chambermaid, each will offer 
 his or her hand to you and 
 wish you a happy journey. 
 A pleasant custom, truly, 
 but, on the whole, it is ad- 
 
 1 1 r 1 "NT A PEASANT'S COTTAGE. 
 
 visable lor travelers in Nor- 
 way to wear gloves. I usually responded cheerfully to this 
 mode of salutation, though sometimes, when I saw what 
 kind of a hand the peasant "held," -I "passed!" 
 
 As we drove on, "we noticed here and there the houses of 
 the poorer farmers. They are invariably made of wood, and 
 
70 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 some, constructed out of huge spruce logs, look as enduring 
 as the hills that surround them. The roofs are covered 
 first with pieces of birch-bark, laid on the logs like shingles. 
 On these are placed two layers of sod — the upper one with 
 its grassy surface toward the sky. This grass is sometimes 
 mown for hay. Occasionally a homoeopathic crop of grain 
 
 will grow here. 
 In almost every 
 case the top of 
 the house looks 
 like a flower- 
 garden ; and I 
 once saw a 
 bearded goat 
 getting his 
 breakfast on his 
 master's roof. 
 
 Occasionally, 
 a little distance 
 from the house, 
 we saw another 
 smaller struc- 
 ture, built be- 
 side a river; for the water-power of Norway is made use of 
 in some simple way by almost all the country people. Many 
 a peasant has a tiny water-wheel which turns a grindstone, 
 or even a mill, and thus his scythes arc sharpened and his 
 grain is ground on his own premises. Such farmers, there- 
 fore, are their own millers, and frequently their own black- 
 smiths, too, and they can shoe their ponies with consider- 
 able skill. 
 
 In traveling through Norway it is most interesting to 
 observe how the people utilize every available portion of the 
 land. Wire ropes extend from the valleys up the mountain 
 
 KL'KAL LIFE. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 73 
 
 A BEAST OF BIRDEN. 
 
 sides, and are used for letting down 
 
 bundles of compressed hay, after it has 
 
 been reaped, gathered, and packed on 
 
 some almost inaccessible plateau. On 
 
 elevations, where it seems well-nigh 
 
 impossible for man to gain a foothold, 
 
 people will scramble, at the hazard of 
 
 their lives, to win a living from the 
 
 little earth that has there found lodg- 
 ment. Seeing with our own eyes these 
 
 habitable eyries, we could well believe 
 
 what we were told, that goats, and even 
 
 children, are often tied for safety to the 
 
 door-posts, and that the members of a 
 
 family who die on such elevated farms 
 
 are sometimes lowered by ropes a thousand feet down to the 
 
 valley or fjord. 
 
 It was on this journey that I took my first and never-to- 
 be-forgotten cariole-ride in Norway. 
 On this occasion, my driver was a 
 small boy, ten years old, just young 
 and mischievous enough to laugh at 
 danger and be reckless. I noticed 
 that his mother cautioned him be- 
 fore we started. She evidently 
 understood him. I did not. Ac- 
 cordingly, while I took the reins, I 
 gave him the whip. Springing like 
 a monkey into his place behind me, 
 he cracked his whip and off we 
 went. The road was good, and for 
 half an hour I thoroughly enjoyed 
 it. Then we began to descend, 
 and suddenly dashed across a bridge 
 
 A FISHING STATION". 
 
74 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 beneath which was a foaming cataract. I naturally reined 
 the pony in. But, to my surprise, the more I pulled, the 
 faster went the pony. "Whoa!" I exclaimed; "whoa!" 
 but whether prolonged or uttered with staccato emphasis 
 that word made no apparent difference in the pony 's gait. 
 " Whoa," was evidently not in its vocabulary. My hair 
 
 THE SCENE OF AN ADVENTURE. 
 
 began to stand on end. Perceiving this, the demon of a 
 boy commenced to utter the most unearthly yells, and to 
 crack his whip until he made the pony actually seem to fly. 
 
 "Go slowly," I exclaimed. Crack, crack, went the whip. 
 
 "Stop that, you young rascal." Crack, crack, crack! I 
 tried to seize the whip, but my tormentor held it far behind 
 him. I sought to turn and petrify him with a look, but it 
 was like trying to see a fly between my shoulder-blades. I 
 saw that I was only making faces at the mountains. 
 
 To appreciate my feelings, one should perceive the wind- 
 ing road along which I was traveling. It was a splendid 
 
NORWAY 
 
 75 
 
 specimen of en- 
 gineering skill, 
 but after twen- 
 ty-seven of 
 these curves, 1 
 felt that I was 
 getting cross- 
 eyed. Fancy 
 me perched, as 
 it were, upon 
 a good-s i zed 
 salad-spoon , 
 flying around 
 the mountain 
 side, with one 
 wheel in the air 
 at every turn, at the rate of 
 round the Horse-shoe Bend. 
 
 A CHARACTERISTIC LANDSCAPE. 
 
 ENGINEERING 
 
 the Chicago Limited going 
 I looked back at my com- 
 panion, whose 
 horse, excited 
 by my o w n , 
 was just behind 
 me. His face 
 was deathly 
 pale. Anxiety 
 was stamped 
 on every fea- 
 ture. His lips 
 moved as if 
 entreating me 
 to slacken this 
 terrific speed. 
 Finally, he 
 faintly cried: 
 
76 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 -""-^'■i:' :'- 
 
 A VIKING SHIP. 
 
 *' If you escape, . . . give my 
 love ... to my children, . . . 
 William and Henry!" 
 
 At last I saw, some little 
 way ahead, a cart half-blocking 
 the road. "Great heavens!" I 
 thought, " here comes a collision! 
 Well, it might as well end this way 
 as any other. No more lectures 
 for me!" But, lo ! there issued 
 from the small boy's lips the 
 sound, " Purr-r-r! " The effect 
 was instantaneous. The horse at 
 once relaxed his speed, and in a 
 moment came to a full stop. For 
 " purring " is to a Norwegian pony 
 
 what the Westinghouse air-brake is to an express train. This 
 
 secret learned, we had no further trouble. For " purr," when 
 
 uttered by American lips, proved always as effectual as by 
 
 Norwegian. 
 
 A few hours after that eventful ride, we found ourselves 
 
 upon the great 
 
 Hardangerfjord, r 
 
 which, with its 
 
 branches, has a 
 
 length of one 
 
 hundred and 
 
 forty miles. 
 
 These ocean 
 
 avenues possess 
 
 not merely nat- 
 
 ural beauty : 
 
 they also have 
 
 historic interest. 
 
 A LONEI.\ POINT. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 79 
 
 This part of Norway, for example, is old Viking ground. 
 Not far from here lived Rollo, conqueror of Normandy; 
 and from these fjords a thousand years ago went forth 
 those dauntless warriors of the north, who for two hun- 
 
 AN ANCIENT BOAT OF NORWAY. 
 
 dred years not only ravaged England, France, and Ireland, 
 but even crossed the Atlantic to America hundreds of years 
 before Columbus sailed from Spain. 
 
 In this connection, therefore, let me say that, to me, the 
 most interesting object in Christiania was its Viking ship. This 
 most impressive relic of the past was found some fourteen years 
 ago within an ancient mound beside the sea. It had reposed 
 there for ten centuries, owing its preservation to the hard, blue 
 clay in which it was entombed. It was made entirely of oak, 
 and was propelled sometimes by oars, sometimes by a sail. 
 Within it was discovered a well-carved wooden chair, in which, 
 no doubt, the chieftain sat. Some kettles, too, were here, 
 
8o 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 and plates and drinking-cups, used by the Vikings when they 
 landed to prepare a meal. But, more remarkable still, this 
 boat contained some human bones. For in those early days 
 such boats were often used as funeral barges for their brave 
 commanders. The vessel, even when buried, was always 
 headed toward the sea, so that when called by Odin once 
 more into life, the chief whose body was thus sepulchered 
 might be ready to start at once and sail again the ocean he 
 had loved so well. 
 
 Occasionally, however, a Viking had a grander form of 
 burial. Sometimes, when an old Norwegian chieftain felt 
 that he was dying, he ordered that his body, when lifeless, 
 should be placed within his boat, which was then filled with 
 light materials and set on fire. The large sail was then spread, 
 and the dead warrior drifted out before the wind, his gallant 
 vessel for a funeral pyre, and for his liturgy the chanting of 
 the waves. As for the Viking himself, he doubtless had faced 
 death, sustained by an unfaltering belief which, had he been 
 more cultivated, might have thus expressed itself: 
 
 " If my bark sink, 't is to another sea." 
 
 
 
NORWAY 8 1 
 
 At the extremity of one of the branches of the Hardanger- 
 fjord is the little town of Odde. This was the only place in 
 Norway where we had any difficulty in securing rooms. As 
 the boat neared the wharf, I heard a dozen ladies whisper to 
 their husbands: " Now, dear, you stay and look after the 
 
 A STKEET IN BERGEN. 
 
 luggage, and I '11 run on and get the rooms." Accordingly, 
 I used the same words to my friend, with the exception of the 
 endearing epithet. I was afraid that might make him home- 
 sick. Then I took my position near the gang-plank. 
 
 When we arrived, I was the first to step ashore, and I 
 started at a brisk walk toward the hotel. Behind me I could 
 hear the rustling of many skirts, but, hardening my heart like 
 Pharaoh, I kept on. At last, forgetting drapery and dignity, 
 the ladies passed me on the run. This time I gallantly gave 
 way, and when, a moment later, I reached the hotel office, 
 I could have fancied myself on the floor of the Stock Ex- 
 change, since every lady there was fighting nobly for her 
 children and her absent lord. 
 
82 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 
 " I want two beds," cried one. 
 " I wish for five beds," screamed another. 
 " Give me a room with blinds," exclaimed a third. 
 The female clerk, meantime, having completely lost her 
 head, was calling off numbers like an auctioneer. Suddenly 
 
 she turned to 
 me, who had not 
 yet opened my 
 mouth, and al- 
 most paralyzed 
 me with these 
 words : 
 
 " Number 20 
 will do for you, 
 three beds and 
 one cradle! 
 
 When I re- 
 covered from my 
 
 Stl * ■ swoon, I found 
 
 that my friend 
 had come up 
 quietly after the battle, and had secured two single rooms. 
 
 Saying farewell to Odde, a day's delightful sail between 
 majestic mountains brought us to one of Norway's most 
 important cities — Bergen. Although we lingered here three 
 days, we had the wonderful experience of continual sunshine. 
 I rightly call it wonderful ; for Bergen is the rainiest city in the 
 world and is sarcastically called "The fatherland of drizzle." 
 The people in Christiania claim that in Bergen when a horse 
 sees a man without an umbrella, he shies! It is also said that 
 a sea-captain, who was born in Bergen, and all his life had 
 sailed between his native city and the outer world, came one 
 day into its harbor when by chance the sun was shining. 
 At once he put about and set forth to sea again, believing that 
 
 THE BERGEN I ISH MARKET. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 35 
 
 he had made a mistake in his port. As we approached the 
 pier at Bergen, I saw what, in the distance, appeared to be 
 a mob. It proved, however, to be the usual crowd which 
 gathers round the Bergen Fish Market. 
 
 This is not, after all, so strange if we reflect that fish is the 
 great commodity of Bergen, and that this city is the chief 
 distributing station for Norwegian fish to the entire world. 
 Several centuries ago, a company of German merchants, who 
 formed the famous Hanseatic League, established themselves 
 here and held for years within their hands the monopoly of 
 all the fishing trade of Norway, compelling even the Norwe- 
 gian fishermen to send their catch of fish to Bergen for re- 
 shipment to other ports of Europe. It is true the league 
 exists no longer, 
 but its influence 
 still survives, 
 and nothing can 
 divert the trade 
 from following 
 in its ancient 
 channel. Over 
 the hills that rise 
 above the city 
 a splendid drive- 
 way has been 
 made. A Bergen 
 resident spoke of 
 it to me as " The 
 Drink Road." 
 
 "What is the meaning of so strange a title? " I inquired. 
 
 "It is so called," he said, "because it is constructed 
 wholly out of the profits derived from the sale of 'ardent 
 spirits." Observing my astonishment, he added: " Do you 
 not understand our famous liquor law in Bergen? " 
 
 F THE DEEP. 
 
86 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 BERGEN S "* DK1NK ROAD. 
 
 I confessed 
 my ignorance. 
 
 "Then let 
 me explain it 
 to you." he ex- 
 claimed. " Per- 
 haps I can best 
 do this." he 
 added, "by 
 pointing out to 
 you that melan- 
 choly individual 
 standing by the gang-plank. He used to be a liquor-seller 
 here, but he has lost his 'spirits,' for our municipal govern- 
 ment now has the sale of liquors entirely in its own hands. 
 It first decides how many licenses are needed, and then, 
 instead of giving them to private individuals, it grants them 
 only to a responsible stock company. The books of this 
 company must be at all times open to inspection, and all 
 its rules are strictly under government control. Moreover 
 the company is not allowed to make more than five per cent. 
 on its invested 
 capital. All 
 profits over that 
 amount are 
 given to public 
 improvements, 
 roads, parks, 
 schools, or hos- 
 pitals. " 
 
 I asked if 
 the law g a v e 
 general satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 
 CURING FISH. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 87 
 
 "We are delighted with it," was the answer. "It is 
 now thirteen years since it was started, and all the prominent 
 towns in Norway, except three, have followed our example. 
 The liquors, in the first place, are all carefully selected. 
 Secondly, the bars are not attractive gin-palaces, but plain 
 rooms, with no seats for customers. No loitering on the 
 premises is allowed. Only a small amount is sold at any one 
 time. Children are not allowed to serve as messengers. 
 Even the bar- 
 tenders are ap- 
 pointed by the 
 government, and 
 wear a uniform 
 and a number, 
 by which they 
 can be easily 
 identified in case 
 of complaint ; 
 and as a practi- 
 cal result," he 
 added, " by tak- 
 ing the liquor 
 traffic out of 
 the hands of 
 irresponsible 
 
 agents the annual amount of ardent spirits sold has been 
 reduced from twelve and a half to five and a half million 
 quarts; and yet our Bergen company has earned each year 
 a net profit of one hundred and twenty-five per cent, one 
 hundred and twenty of which is, as I have said, applied to 
 public charities! " 
 
 But to me the most interesting sight in Bergen was the 
 grave of the Norwegian violinist, Ole Bull. His last appear- 
 ance in America was in 1879 — to ° l° n & a S° perhaps for many 
 
 A BUSY DAY IN BERGEN. 
 
88 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 to recollect him — for, alas ! even those who entertain the 
 public best are soon forgotten. But some of my readers 
 no doubt recall that Paganini of the North, tall and erect. 
 with large blue eyes and flaxen hair — the personification 
 of a valiant Norseman, whose fire and magnetism in this nine- 
 teenth century displayed themselves in music rather than in 
 maritime adventure. As his old Viking ancestors had no doubt 
 wielded sword and battle-ax. so his bow was of such unusual 
 
 length that no 
 one of inferior 
 strength and 
 stature could 
 have used it ad- 
 vantageously. 
 
 From this 
 musician's 
 grave one looks 
 off over the 
 lovely bay of 
 Bergen. This 
 peaceful v: 
 which he so 
 loved, produced 
 upon my mind, 
 in the soft 
 evening light, the same effect as did the music of that skillful 
 hand which now reposed beneath the flowers. To me his 
 playing was enchanting, and unlike that of any other violinist 
 I have ever heard. There was a quality in the tones that he 
 would call forth from his violin, which seemed as weird and 
 fascinating as the poetry of the sagas, and as mysterious as 
 the light which lingered on his mountains and fjords. What 
 wonder that his death in 1880 was deplored in Norway as a 
 national calamity ? 
 
 
 
NORWAY 
 
 «3fc 
 
 Taking our leave reluctantly of 
 Bergen, we entered on what proved 
 to be one of the most delightful 
 features of our tour in Norway, a 
 sail of twenty-four hours along the 
 coast to the town of Molde. How 
 can I adequately describe that 
 most unique and memorable 
 journey? Our entire course lay 
 through a labyrinth of islands, 
 beyond which, every now and 
 then, we gained a glimpse of the 
 Atlantic rolling away toward the 0LE BULL " 
 
 horizon. The proximity and number of these islands aston- 
 ished me. For, hour after hour, they would come into 
 sight, wheel by us slowly, and then disappear, to be succeeded 
 by their counterparts. We went down to dinner or to our 
 staterooms, yet when we came on deck again, islands 
 still surrounded us. We saw them glittering in the sunset 
 ere we went to sleep, and in the morning we were once more 
 environed by them. Sometimes I could have fancied that 
 they were sailing with us, like a vast convoy of protecting 
 gunboats, moving when we moved, halting when we halted, 
 patient and motionless till we resumed our voyage. 
 
 Meantime, just opposite these islands, is the coast, — a 
 grand succession of bold headlands and dark, gloomy moun- 
 tains, beyond which always are still higher summits capped 
 
NORWAY 
 
 WONDERFUL PANORAMA. 
 
 with snow. At frequent intervals some beautiful fjord leads 
 inward, like the entrance to a citadel ; and here and there, 
 within a sheltered nook, we see some fishing hamlet crouch- 
 ing on the sand. This is surely the perfection of ocean 
 travel. For, though this mountain-bordered channel is hun- 
 dreds of miles in length, the sea within it is as smooth as a 
 canal. Once only throughout the day was the great swell 
 of the Atlantic 
 
 felt, when for a 
 little space the 
 island break- 
 water was gone. 
 Our sail along 
 the coast had, 
 late at night, a 
 most appro- 
 priate ending in 
 our arrival at Molde. There are few places in the world 
 more beautiful. It lies upon the bank of a fjord, on the 
 opposite side of which is an array of snowy mountains forty 
 miles in length. Molde is sometimes called the " Inter- 
 laken of Norway," but that does not by any means describe 
 it. For here there is no single mountain, like the Jungfrau, 
 to compel our homage, but rather a long series of majestic 
 peaks, resembling a line of icebergs drifting in crystal splendor 
 from the polar sea. 
 
 Filled with enthusiasm over this splendid spectacle, we 
 left the steamer, and soon found ourselves within a com- 
 fortable hotel. It was the hour of midnight, but, far from 
 being dark, the eastern sky was even then brightening with 
 the coming dawn. A party of excursionists was just return- 
 ing from a mountain climb. Some passengers were embarking 
 on the steamer we had left. Supper or breakfast (I know not 
 which to call it) was awaiting us. Under such circumstances 
 
NORWAY 
 
 9i 
 
 it seemed ridiculous to go to bed. Accordingly, we laughed 
 and chatted on the balcony, until a wretched man thrust out 
 his head from an adjoining window, and remarked : 
 
 " My friends, I am glad to see you happy, but I have just 
 returned from the North Cape. I have n't slept for eight 
 nights. It seems quite dark here by comparison, and I was 
 hopeful of a good night's rest. Would you just as lief post- 
 pone your fun until you get inside the arctic circle?" 
 
 This pathetic appeal could not be resisted, and asking his 
 forgiveness, we retired. 
 
 Taking leave of Molde one pleasant afternoon, we sailed 
 across its beautiful fjord to explore the snow-capped moun- 
 tains opposite. It was upon this voyage that I was taught 
 the bitter lesson never to trust my baggage to a Norwegian, 
 merely because he claims to be able to speak English. Upon 
 the deck of our little steamer stood that day a man, upon 
 whose hatband I read the legend that he was the proprietor 
 of a hotel at Veblungsnas, where we proposed to spend the 
 night. Approaching him, therefore, I inquired: 
 
 " Can you speak English? " 
 
 He smiled upon me sweetly, and replied, " O, yes." 
 
 Innocent of the awful fact that this was the whole extent 
 of his vocabulary, I continued: 
 
 "When we arrive, will you bring my valise ashore, while 
 I go at once to the hotel to secure rooms? " 
 
 "O, yes." 
 
 Ten minutes later we reached our landing pier. I left the 
 
9 2 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 VIEW PROM MOLDE. 
 
 boat, as I had said, and hurried on to the hotel. I presently 
 beheld the old proprietor coming from the wharf, but without 
 
 my satchel. 
 
 " What does 
 this mean? " I 
 cried ; " did you 
 not bring my 
 valise off the 
 steamer? " 
 " O, yes." 
 "Where is it, 
 then? Is it not 
 on there still? " 
 " O, yes." 
 "Mercy on 
 me! Is not that 
 the steamer going off with my valise on board?" 
 " O, yes! " 
 
 " Well, are you not a monumental idiot, then? " 
 " O, yes! " 
 
 It took me three days to recover that valise; and the im- 
 portant lesson of " O, yes," was effectually learned. 
 
 Early next morning we took leave of Veblungsnas, and 
 drove directly towards the Romsdal, one of the finest valleys 
 in all Norway. Before us, like a mighty sentinel, the im- 
 posing Romsdalhorn rose, dark with somber shadows, to an 
 altitude of five thousand and ninety feet. The peak itself, 
 five hundred feet in height, is said to be almost as dan- 
 gerous to ascend as the appalling Matterhorn, not only 
 on account of its perpendicular sides, but also from the 
 crumbling nature of the rock, which renders it impossible to 
 fasten iron bars in its surface. 
 
 Some years ago, an English tourist, after a number of un- 
 successful efforts, finally reached the summit of this moun- 
 
NORWAY 
 
 93 
 
 tain. He was, of course, exultant. The inhabitants of the 
 valley had told him that the conquest of the Romsdalhorn 
 was hopeless, and no tradition existed among them that its 
 ascent had ever been made. Nevertheless, when the success- 
 ful climber finally stood upon the mountain's crest, he found 
 to his astonishment and regret that he was not the first 
 man who had gained this victory. A mound of stones, 
 heaped up there as a monument, proved beyond doubt that 
 at some unknown epoch some one had been there before him. 
 Driving around the base of this majestic mountain, we 
 found ourselves within a narrow gorge shut in by savage 
 cliffs, with barely space enough between them for the carriage- 
 road and a wild torrent rushing toward the sea. One wall of 
 this ravine is singu- _^^^.,^_ larly weird and 
 
 THE ROMSDALHOKN. 
 
94 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 pinnacles, splintered and shattered by the lightning's bolts, 
 stand out in sharp relief against the sky, as if some monsters, 
 hidden on the other side, were raising o'er the brink of these 
 stupendous precipices their outstretched hands and tapering 
 fingers in warning or in supplication. These strange, fantastic 
 forms are in the evening light so ghostly and uncanny, that they 
 appear to the Norwegian peasants like demons dancing glee- 
 fully upon the 
 mountain tops. 
 Hence the pin- 
 nacles are called 
 the "Witches' 
 Peaks." 
 
 It was while 
 riding through 
 this gorge that 
 I heard a tour- 
 ist complaining 
 that N o rway 
 had no ruins. 
 In one sense 
 this is true, for, 
 owing to the fact 
 that the feudal system never existed here, castles and strong- 
 holds are nowhere to be found. But Norway surely can dis- 
 pense with any crumbling works of man. Amidst the ruins 
 of her everlasting mountains and stupendous fjords, grooved 
 by the glaciers when the earth was young, all remnants 
 of man's handiwork would seem like ant-hills made but an 
 hour ago. 
 
 Toward evening, at the head of the Romsdal Valley, we 
 reached the station of Stuflaaten, where we were to sleep. 
 Our spirits sank as we approached it. Nothing, apparently, 
 could be less inviting. But here, as in so many other instances, 
 
 THE WITCHES PEAKS. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 95 
 
 STL'FLAATEN. 
 
 we found the 
 
 accommodations 
 
 excellent. It is 
 
 true, the beds 
 
 possessed the 
 
 usual Norwegian 
 
 fault — an insuffi- 
 cient length. 
 
 Tall travelers, 
 
 who object to 
 
 having their 
 
 limbs closed 
 
 under them at 
 
 night, like the blades of a jack-knife, frequently sleep on 
 
 the floor in Norway. 
 
 " I cannot lie in one of these beds," exclaimed my friend; 
 
 which, for a lawyer, seemed to me a remarkable admission! 
 Never shall I forget the dining-room at Stuflaaten. Here 
 
 we were first attracted by the fireplace. It was a chimney 
 
 built out from the corner, with space behind for a warm cup- 
 
 board. The 
 opening for fuel 
 was so narrow 
 that sticks were 
 placed upright 
 upon the hearth. 
 Beside this were 
 two rocking- 
 chairs (almost 
 unheard of lux- 
 uries in any part 
 of Europe), and 
 sinking into 
 these, we thought 
 
9 6 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 of home. The influence of that American article of furniture 
 was, I fear, depressing, for soon my friend remarked : 
 
 "How far we are from dear New England! If I could 
 only see one object here which really came from there, how 
 happy I should be ! " 
 
 " Look at that clock upon the wall," I responded; " that 
 has a familiar look. Perhaps that came from ' dear New 
 England ! ' " 
 
 "Nonsense," he answered; " how could anything made 
 , .„,,,». — « in New England 
 
 find its way here 
 almost within the 
 Arctic circle? " 
 
 "Well," I ex- 
 claimed, "where 
 is the land that 
 Yankee inven- 
 tions have not 
 entered? Let us 
 put it to the 
 test." Accord- 
 ingly, stepping to the clock, I opened it and read these words: 
 " Made by Jerome & Co., New Haven, Conn." 
 
 Returning once more through the Romsdal, Veblungsnas, 
 and Molde, we sailed again, for twelve hours, along the Norway 
 coast to reach the city of Trondhjem. Although less beauti- 
 fully situated than Bergen, Molde, or Christiania, in point of 
 historic interest, Trondhjem is superior to them all. For here 
 lived the old Norwegian kings, and the town can boast of a con- 
 tinuous existence for a thousand years. It also enjoys the proud 
 distinction of having the most northern railway station in the 
 world, for from this city, which is in the latitude of Iceland, 
 a railroad now extends three hundred and fifty miles south- 
 ward to Christiania. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 97 
 
 Upon this road are run some 
 cars which are facetiously called 
 "sleepers"; but they are such as 
 Mr. George M. Pullman would see only in 
 an acute attack of nightmare. The road 
 being a narrow-gauge one, the car is not much wider than an 
 omnibus. The berth (if the name can be applied to such a 
 coffin-like contrivance) is formed by pulling narrow cushion- 
 seats together. On these is placed one pillow, but no blanket 
 and no mattress, — simply a pillow, — nothing more! From the 
 feeling, I should say that my pillow consisted of a small boulder 
 covered with cotton. But what, think you, is the upper berth? 
 It is a hammock, swung on hooks, and sagging down to within 
 a foot of the lower couch. Now, it requires some skill to get 
 into a hammock anywhere; but to climb into one that is hung 
 four feet above the floor of a moving railroad car, calls for the 
 
 A RAILWAY STATION. 
 
9 8 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 
 A NORWEGIAN HARBOR. 
 
 agility of an acrobat. After my experience that night, I feel 
 perfectly qualified to perform on the trapeze, for since I weighed 
 but one hundred and forty pounds, while my friend tipped the 
 
 scales at two 
 hundred and 
 fifty, I thought 
 it was safer for 
 me to occupy 
 the upper story. 
 Another diffi- 
 culty met with 
 in that memora- 
 ble journey was 
 to keep covered 
 up. There was 
 no heat in the car. At every respiration, we could see our 
 breath. This was, however, a consolation, since it assured 
 us that we were still alive. Wraps of all kinds were needed, 
 but the space was limited. There was, for example, in my 
 hammock, room for myself alone ; or without me, for my 
 traveling-rug, overcoat, and pillow. But when we were 
 all in together, the hammock was continually overflowing. 
 Accordingly, every fifteen minutes during that awful night, 
 my friend would start up in abject terror, dreaming that he 
 was being buried beneath a Norway avalanche. 
 
 I never think of Trondhjem without recalling, also, an 
 experience in a Norwegian barber-shop. I knew that it was 
 tempting Providence to enter it, for shaving in Norway is 
 still a kind of surgical operation. But for some time a cold- 
 ness had existed between my razors and myself. The edge 
 of our friendship had become dulled. Accordingly, I made 
 the venture. Before me, as I entered, stood a man witli a 
 head of hair like Rubenstein's, and a mouth like a miniature 
 fjord. 
 

NORWAY 
 
 101 
 
 " Do you speak English? " I began. 
 
 " Nay." 
 
 " Sprechen sie Deutsch? " 
 
 " Nay." 
 
 " Parlez-vous Francais?" 
 
 " Nay." 
 
 " Parlate Italiano? " 
 
 " Nay." 
 
 "Well, one thing is sure, then," I said; " you will not talk 
 me to death, anyway! " 
 
 Having made the most graceful gestures of which I was 
 capable to indicate what I wanted, I settled myself in a hard 
 chair and laid my head against a rest resembling the vise fur- 
 nished by a photographer when he asks you " to look pleas- 
 ant." The preliminaries being over, the Norwegian Figaro 
 took his razor and made one 
 awful never - to - be - forgotten 
 swoop at my cheek as if he 
 were mowing grain with a 
 scythe ! I gave a roar like 
 a Norwegian waterfall and 
 bounded from the chair in 
 agony ! When I had fully 
 
 wiped away my blood and 
 tears, I asked him faintly : 
 
 " Have you any ether? " 
 
 " Nay." 
 
 " Any laughing-gas? " 
 
 " Nay." 
 
 " Any cocaine? " 
 
 " Nay." 
 
 "Well, then," I exclaimed, "will you please go over 
 there and ' nay ' by yourself while I finish this operation with 
 my own hands? " 
 
 A VILLAGR MAIDEN. 
 
102 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 He seemed to understand me, and retreated to a corner. 
 When all was over, he pointed to a bowl at which I saw 
 my friend gazing with that peculiarly sad expression which he 
 invariably assumed when thinking of his family. I soon dis- 
 covered the cause, for from the centre of this wash-bowl rose 
 a little fountain about a foot in height, which seemed to 
 him a facsimile of the one on Boston Common. I compre- 
 
 ENTRANCE TO A FJORD. 
 
 hended that I was to wash in this fountain ; but how to do 
 it was a mystery. At last I cautiously thrust one side of my 
 face into it, and instantly the water shot up over my car and 
 fell upon the other side. I turned my face, and the ascending 
 current carromed on my nose, ran down my neck, and made 
 a change of toilet absolutely necessary. When, therefore, 
 my friend had called a cab to take me home, I asked the 
 barber what I should pay him. By gestures he expressed to 
 me the sum equivalent to three cents. 
 
 "What," I exclaimed, "nothing extra for the court- 
 plaster? " 
 
 " Nay." 
 
 " And nothing for the privilege of shaving myself? " 
 
 " Nay." 
 
 "And you don't charge for the fountain, either' " 
 
NORWAY 
 
 103 
 
 " Nay." 
 
 "Well," I exclaimed as I rode away, "I can truly say 
 that never before have I received so much for my money." 
 
 This city of the north has one extremely interesting 
 building — its cathedral. As a rule, Scandinavian churches are 
 not worth a visit ; but this is a notable exception. More 
 than three hundred years before Columbus landed on San 
 Salvador this building held a proud position. Its finest carv- 
 ing dates from the eleventh century. At one time pilgrims 
 came here from all northern Europe, and laid their gold and 
 jewels on its shrines. But at the period of the Reformation all 
 this was changed. Iconoclasts defaced its carving, cast down 
 its statues, sacked the church, and packed its treasures in a 
 ship, which, as if cursed by an offended Deity, foundered 
 at sea. 
 
 On entering the ancient edifice, we were delighted with its 
 delicate stone-tracing. The material is a bluish slate, which 
 gives to the whole church a softness and a beauty difficult to 
 
 •*■"*' 
 
104 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 equal, and blends most admirably with its columns of white 
 marble. A part of the cathedral was, however, closed to us, 
 for all the ruin once wrought here is being carefully effaced 
 by systematic restoration. The government contributes for 
 
 this purpose a certain 
 sum every year, and pri- 
 vate individuals help on 
 the work from genuine 
 love of art, as well as from 
 patriotic motives. The 
 old designs are being followed, 
 and hence, in time, this old 
 cathedral will in every feature come to be a reproduction of 
 the original structure. 
 
 A few days after reaching Trondhjem, we found ourselves 
 embarking for another ocean journey. This time our desti- 
 nation was the northern limit of the continent. For a Nor- 
 wegian tour naturally divides itself into three parts. The first 
 consists of driving through the mountainous interior; the 
 
NORWAY 
 
 IO: 
 
 second is the ex- 
 ploration of its 
 noble fjords; 
 the third is the 
 voyage from 
 Trondhjem to 
 the North Cape. 
 This voyage, 
 in fast excursion 
 
 steamers, is now VN excursion steamer. 
 
 made in about four days, an equal number being occupied in 
 returning. " Eight days? " the reader will perhaps exclaim; 
 " why, that is longer than a voyage across the Atlantic." In 
 actual duration, yes; but otherwise the two excursions are 
 entirely different. For almost all the way you follow so 
 closely the fringe of islands that there is little danger of 
 rough weather, while the mainland is constantly in sight. 
 
 Some twenty-four hours after leaving Trondhjem, our 
 steamer halted at an island, up whose precipitous side we 
 climbed five hundred feet to view a natural tunnel perfo- 
 rating an entire mountain. Through this we gained a charm- 
 ing telescopic vista of the ocean and its island belt. The tun- 
 nel is six hundred feet in length, and in some places two hun- 
 dred feet in height. So smooth and perpendicular are its 
 walls, that it appears almost incredible that human agency 
 
 has not assisted 
 in this strange 
 formation. But 
 scientists say 
 that it w a s 
 accomplished 
 entirely by the 
 waves, when all 
 this rock-bound 
 
io6 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 coast was covered by the sea. Leaving this curious freak of 
 nature, another memorable feature of our northern voyage 
 soon greeted us, — the Loffoden Islands. These form a 
 broken chain one hundred and thirty miles in length. The 
 scenery in their vicinity is perhaps the finest on the Norway 
 coast, and as we watched it with delight, the captain told us 
 of his voyages here in winter, and I now learned, to my aston- 
 ishment, that freight-steamers make their regular trips, all 
 
 FISHING ON THE COAST. 
 
 winter long, round the North Cape to Vadso, on the Arctic 
 coast. They encounter fearful storms at times, but rarely any 
 icebergs. We have, it seems, a monopoly of these floating 
 monsters on our side of the Atlantic, borne west and south 
 by the current off the coast of Greenland. 
 
 Of course, these wintry voyages are performed in dark- 
 ness, for Night then reigns here with as much supremacy as 
 Day in summer. The lights on the steamers are, therefore, 
 kept constantly burning. Yet, strange to say, this is the 
 period of greatest activity among these islands. Winter is the 
 Norwegian fisherman's harvest-time. The only light neces- 
 
SCENE FROM BROTHANSDALEN. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 109 
 
 sary to carry on 
 the work is that" 
 of the Aurora 
 Borealis and the 
 brilliant stars. 
 From twenty to 
 twenty-five mil- 
 lions of cod are 
 captured here 
 each winter, 
 and twenty-five 
 thousand people 
 
 are employed in *^HeI . . _. J 
 
 the trade. 
 
 Soon after leaving the Loffodens we arrived at Tromso, 
 the city of the Lapps. It had the appearance of a pretty 
 village as we viewed it from a distance; but soon the sense 
 of sight was wholly lost in the prominence given to an- 
 other of our senses. The carcass of a whale was floating in 
 the harbor. It had been speared and towed in hither to be 
 cut in pieces. The blubber was being 
 boiled in kettles on the shore. The 
 impression which this made on my 
 olfactory nerves is something for which 
 language is inadequate. The odor was 
 as colossal as the fish itself. I never 
 sympathized sufficiently with Jonah till 
 I went to Tromso ! 
 
 Soon after landing here, a walk of 
 an hour brought us to a settlement of 
 Lapps, consisting of some very primi- 
 fc.^2 (S ^K ti ve tents. My first impression of these 
 
 people was, and still is, that any one of 
 them could have effectually concealed 
 
 LAPLANDERS. ' 
 
no 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 .*\.. 
 
 REINDEER 
 AND SLEDGE 
 
 his identity by 
 taking a bath. 
 They all have 
 
 dirty, wizened faces, high cheekbones, flat noses, and mouths 
 that yawn like caverns. Their beards are so peculiarly tufted 
 that they look like worn-out Astrachan fur. I could almost 
 suppose that in rigorous winters the reindeer, while their mas- 
 ters slept, had nibbled at their cheeks. The men are about 
 
 five feet high, the women four; 
 but they are tough and hardy, 
 like most dwarfs. Dickens 
 could have found among them 
 countless models for his hid- 
 eous Quilp. 
 
 Advancing to one of their 
 huts, we peered into the in- 
 terior. Upon the ground was 
 smoldering a small fire, part 
 of the smoke from which es- 
 caped through an opening in 
 the roof. The inmates scarcely 
 noticed us, until my artist pro- 
 
 A LITTLE LAPP. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 1 1 1 
 
 duced his camera. Then there was instantly a general stampede. 
 One woman seized her baby and rushed forth, as if a demon 
 had molested her. The cause of this confusion, however, was 
 not fear, nor even modesty, but avarice, pure and simple. 
 They understood perfectly what the camera was, and wanted 
 a good price for being photographed. Three shillings was 
 
 LIFE IN LAPLAND. 
 
 at first demanded for a picture, but finally we compromised 
 by giving half that sum. 
 
 Among these Laplanders, the clothing of both men and 
 women is made of reindeer skin, worn with the hardened pelt 
 outside. These garments last indefinitely, and are sometimes 
 bequeathed from one generation to another. The Lapp com- 
 plexion looks like leather. Even the babies have a shriveled 
 look, resembling that of monkeys. This is not strange, how- 
 ever, for both men and women are great consumers of 
 tobacco. Their huts are always full of smoke, till finally the 
 inmates become smoke-dried within and without. This, in 
 turn, produces thirst. Hence we were not surprised to learn 
 that they are inordinately fond of ardent spirits. In fact, 
 
I 12 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 when a Norwegian wishes to remonstrate with a friend who is 
 inclined to drink to excess, he will often say to him, " Don't 
 make a Lapp of yourself! 
 
 Bidding farewell to Tromsd and the Laplanders, the next 
 day brought us to the most northern town in the world — 
 Hammerfest. It was a great surprise to me to see, in such 
 proximity to the North Pole, a town of about three thousand 
 inhabitants, with schools, a church, a telegraph station, and a 
 weekly newspaper! The snow-streaked mountains in the dis- 
 tance gave me the only hint of winter that I had; and I could 
 hardly realize that I was here two hundred miles farther north 
 than Bering's Strait, and in about the same latitude in which, 
 on our side of the Atlantic, the gallant Sir John Franklin 
 perished in the ice. The cause of this, however, is not diffi- 
 cult to trace. 
 
 The influence of the Gulf Stream is felt powerfully 
 even here. For here it is that the great ocean current prac- 
 tically dies, bequeathing to these fishermen of Hammerfest, for 
 
 HAMMERFEST. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 ii3 
 
 THE Gil F STREAM'S TERMINUS. 
 
 their firewood, the treasures it has so long carried on its bosom, 
 such as the trunks of palm-trees, and the vegetation of the 
 
 tropics. It is an 
 extraordinary 
 fact that while 
 the harbor of 
 Christiania, one 
 thousand miles 
 farther south, 
 is frozen over 
 three months 
 every winter, 
 
 this bay of Hammerfest, only sixty miles from the North 
 Cape, is never closed on account of ice. 
 
 An interesting object in Hammerfest is the meridian shaft, 
 which marks the number of degrees between this town and 
 the mouth of the Danube, on the Black Sea. The mention 
 made upon this column of that 
 other terminus of measure- 
 ment, so far distant in the 
 South of Europe, reminded us 
 by contrast of one more ad- 
 vantage which this high lati- 
 tude possesses — the greater 
 rapidity of its vegetation. 
 When the sun once appears 
 within this polar region, it 
 comes to stay. Nature im- 
 mediately makes amends for 
 her long seclusion. For three 
 months the sunshine is well- 
 nigh incessant. There is no 
 loss of time at night. The flowers do not close in sleep. All 
 vegetation rushes to maturity. Thus vegetables in the Arctic 
 
 THE MERIDIAN SHAFT. 
 
114 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 circle will sometimes grow three inches in a single day, and 
 although planted six weeks later than those in Christiania, 
 they are ready for the table at the same time. 
 
 Sailing finally from Hammerfest, a voyage of seven hours 
 brought us to our destination — the North Cape. I looked 
 
 upon it with that 
 passionate eager- 
 ness born of long 
 years of anticipa- 
 tion, and felt at 
 once a thrill of 
 satisfaction, in 
 the absence of 
 all disappoint- 
 ment. For my 
 ideal of that 
 famous promon- 
 tory could not be 
 more perfect- 
 ly realized than 
 in this dark- 
 browed, majestic 
 headland, rising with perpendicular cliffs, one thousand feet 
 in height, from the still darker ocean at its base. It is, in 
 reality, an island, divided from the mainland by a narrow 
 strait, like a gigantic sentinel stationed in advance to guard 
 the coast of Europe from the Arctic storms. 
 
 Embarking here in boats, we drew still nearer to this 
 monstrous cliff. From this point it resembles a stupendous 
 fortress surmounted by an esplanade. For in that prehis- 
 toric age, when northern Europe was enveloped in an icy 
 mantle, huge glaciers in their southward march planed down 
 its summit to a level surface. The climbing of the cliff, 
 though safe, is quite exhausting. Ropes are, however, hung 
 
 NORWEGIAN II HI: A. 
 
NORWAY 
 
 11/ 
 
 at different points, and, holding on to these, we slowly crept 
 up to its southern parapet. Thence a laborious walk of fif- 
 teen minutes brought us at last to the highest elevation, 
 marked by a granite monument erected to commemorate 
 King Oscar's visit to the place in 1873. 
 
 It is a wonderfully impressive moment when one stands 
 thus on the northern boundary of Europe, so near and yet so 
 far from the North Pole. It seemed to me as if the outer- 
 most limit of our planet had been reached. Nowhere, not 
 even in the desert, have I felt so utterly remote from civiliza- 
 tion, or so near to the infinitude of space. 
 
 But presently from our steamer, anchored near the base, 
 some rockets rose and burst in fiery showers far below us. It 
 was a signal for us to be on our guard. I looked at my 
 watch. It was exactly five minutes before midnight. Advan- 
 cing, therefore, to the edge of the cliff, I looked upon a unique 
 and never-to-be-forgotten scene. Below, beyond me, and on 
 either side, lay in sublime and aw- 
 
 ful solitude ^^^^ "" v, »s^ the Arctic sea, 
 
 stretch- ^^^ ^^ ing away 
 
 NORTH CAPE. 
 
uS 
 
 NORWAY 
 
 STUPENDOUS CLIFFS. 
 
 ance born of the twilight and 
 the waters like a benediction; 
 and beaut}-, when I looked 
 shoulder of the 
 globe, I saw the 
 Midnight Sun. 
 At this great 
 height and 
 northern lati- 
 tude it did not 
 sink to the hori- 
 zon, but merely 
 paused, appar- 
 ently some twen- 
 ty feet above the 
 waves, then 
 gradually rose 
 again. It was 
 the last of count- 
 
 to that still un- 
 discovered re- 
 gion of the 
 north, which, 
 with its fatal 
 charm, has lured 
 so many brave 
 explorers to 
 their doom. 
 
 Straight from 
 the polar sea, 
 apparently, the 
 wondrous north- 
 ern light (an 
 opalescent radi- 
 
 the dawn) came stealing o'er 
 and to enhance its mystery 
 
 northward over the rounded 
 
 THE MIDNIGHT SL*N. 
 
 
NORWAY 
 
 119 
 
 less sunsets which had that day been following each other 
 round the globe. It was the first of countless sunrises which, 
 hour after hour, in so many continents would wake to life 
 again a sleeping world. I have seen many impressive sights 
 in many lands, but nothing, until Time for me shall be no 
 more, can equal in solemnity the hour when, standing on this 
 threshold of a continent, and on the edge of this immeasur- 
 able sea, I watched, without one moment's interval of dark- 
 ness, the Past transform itself into the Present, and Yesterday 
 become To-day. 
 
 king oscar's monument — north cape. 
 
K. DONNELLEY & SONS CO. 
 CHICAGO. 
 
GETTY CENTER LIBRARY 
 
 3 3125 00139 6320 
 
LECTURE II 
 
 ATHENS and VENICE 
 
 In this lecture Mr. John L. Stoddard transports to the 
 shores of the Mediterranean the readers who have been his com- 
 panions in Norway. The picturesque fjord gives place to the 
 languid canal, and the long stretch of Northern Water is exchanged 
 for the classic iEgean. In Athens and Venice every structure has 
 a history and every spot a legend. Architectural masterpieces 
 abound and make good the lack of scenery, such as environed us 
 on our way to view the Midnight Sun. In Mr. Stoddard's 
 company we recall much of Venetian and Athenian history, and 
 in a very pleasing way are brought to associate the existing monu- 
 ments of two famous cities with their roles in the grand drama of 
 History. 
 
 121 Illustrations 
 
 elegant reproductions of Mr. Stoddard's own photographs embel- 
 lish the masterly text, and make us familiar with the appearance 
 of historic sites and scenes. 
 
 The .Lecture on Athens-Venice will be sent, postpaid, 
 on receipt of the special introductory price charged for Mr. 
 Stoddard's Lecture on Norway. 
 
 THE LAKESIDE TRESS, R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMI ANY, PRINTERS, CHICAGO.