of
coffee and a biscuit, and in something less than two hours later one
sits down to a most abundant meal. This commences with a _sup_, that is
to say, a glass of carraway or aniseed brandy; then come tea, bread and
butter, ham, sausage, cheese and beer; and the whole winds up with a
warm _Koettraett_, a beefsteak or cutlet."

Truly a solid and savoury repast. Whilst discussing it in the cabin of
the Svithiod, Mr Boas makes acquaintance with his fellow-voyagers.

"At the top of the table sat our captain, a jovial pleasant man. He
was very attentive to the passengers, had a prompt and friendly
answer to every question; in short, he was a Swede all over. Near
him were placed the families of two clergymen, in whose charge was
also travelling a young Swedish countess, a charming,
innocent-looking child, whose large dark eyes seemed destined, at
no very distant period, to give more than one heartache. Beside
them was a tall man, plainly dressed, and of military appearance.
This was Count S----, (Schwerin, probably,) a descendant of that
friend and lieutenant of Frederick the Great who, on the 6th May
1757, purchased with his life the victory of Prague. He was
returning from the hay-harvest on those estates which had belonged
to his valiant forefather, whose heirs had long been kept out of
them for lack of certain documents. But Frederick William III.
said, 'Right is right, though wax and parchment be not there to
prove it;' and he restored to the family their property, which is
worth half-a-million.

"The Count's neighbour was Fru Nyberg, a Swedish poetess, who
writes under the name of Euphrosyne. In Germany, nobody troubles
himself about the 'Dikter af Euphrosyne,' but every educated Swede
knows them and their authoress. The latter may once have been
handsome, but wrinkles have now crept in where roses formerly
bloomed. Euphrosyne was born in 1785--authoresses purchase their
fame dearly enough at the price of having their age put down in
every lexicon. A black tulle cap with flame-coloured ribands
covered her head; round her neck she wore a string of large amber
beads, a gold watch-chain, and a velvet riband from which her
eyeglass was suspended. She was quiet, and retiring, spoke little,
and passed the greater portion of the day in the cabin. Fru Nyberg
was returning from