ess we see coming at such a stately pace
along the gravelled road? Wrong again, my friend; this is a young lady
from Heligoland, the little island we passed at the mouth of the Elbe,
and a very prim and neat young lady she is, though where she got her
bonnet shape from I cannot say.

The way is lined with hawkers of every description: fruit, songs and
sausages; toys, sticks and cigars; pipes, sweetmeats and tape; every
imaginable article that was ever sold at a fair is to be found here, and
every vender in a different dress, illustrating at one view the peasant
costumes of every village in the vicinity. As for tobacco, the air is
like a gust from some gigantic pipe. Here is the entrance to Franconi's
Circus, though not yet open for public entertainment. Blasts of
obstreperous music rush upon you from every door; the shrill squealing of
a flageolet being heard above everything else.

Knife-swallowers, mesmerisers, and the eternal Punch--here called
Caspar--ballad-singers, tumblers, quacks, and incredible animals, are
here for inspection. You would fancy it was some old English fair; for
in spite of yourself there is a quaint feeling steals over you, that you
had suddenly tumbled back into the middle of the last century.

And who pays for all this? for whose especial amusement is all this got
up? For our old friend "Jack." Here are English sailors, and French
sailors; sailors in green velveteen jackets; sailors with their beards
and whiskers curled into little shining ringlets. We meet our salt-water
friend everywhere, and, by the intense delight depicted on his features,
"Jack" is evidently in a high state of enjoyment.

Let us go on; we have promised not to visit the dancehouses to-day, and
we will quit this clamorous crowd.

CHAPTER II.
ALTONA.

THE POET'S GRAVE.--A DANISH HARVEST HOME.

We tread upon elevated ground, and far away to our left, down in a
hollow, flows the broad Elbe; placid indeed from this distance, for not a
ripple can we see upon its surface. A few ships are lazily moving on its
waters. Stand aside, and make way for this reverend gentleman; he is a
_prediger_, a preacher of the gospel; he is habited in a black gown,
black silk stockings and shoes, a small black velvet skull-cap on his
head, while round his neck bristles a double plaited frill, white as a
curd, and stiff as block tin. You would take him for the Dutch nobleman
in an old panel painting. It may appear rather g