sea compared with the
horror which dwells in that awful abyss of rock? The storm may rage,
the black clouds may come whirling down upon the breaking billows, but
the beautiful, glorious sun soon gets the mastery again, and the storm
is past. But never does the sun penetrate into these black, gloomy
caverns; never a freshening breeze of spring can revive the heart down
there. No! I shall not join you, black earthworms that you are! Never
could I bring myself to lead that terrible life.'

"He resolved to spend that night in Falun, and set off back to
Goethaborg the first thing in the morning.

"When he got to the market-place, he found a crowd of people there. A
train of miners with their mine-candles in their hands, and musicians
before them, was halted before a handsome house. A tall, slightly-built
man, of middle age, came out, looking round him with kindly smiles. It
was easy to see, by his frank manner, his open brow, and his bright,
dark-blue eyes, that he was a genuine Dalkarl. The miners formed a
circle round him, and he shook them each cordially by the hand, saying
kindly words to them all.

"Elis learned that this was Pehrson Dahlsjoe, Alderman, and owner of a
fine 'Fraelse' at Stora-Kopparberg. 'Fraelse' is the name given in
Sweden to landed property leased out for the working of the lodes of
copper and silver contained in it. The owners of these lands have
shares in the mines and are responsible for their management.

"Elis was told, further, that the Assizes were just over that day, and
that then the miners went round in procession to the houses of the
aldermen, the chief engineers and the minemasters, and were hospitably
entertained.

"When he looked at these fine, handsome fellows, with their kindly,
frank faces, he forgot all about the earthworms he had seen coming up
the shaft. The healthy gladsomeness which broke out afresh in the whole
circle, as if new-fanned by a spring breeze, when Pehrson Dahlsjoe came
out, was of a different kidney to the senseless noise and uproar of the
sailors' Hoensning. The manner in which these miners enjoyed themselves
went straight to the serious Elis's heart. He felt indescribably happy;
but he could scarce restrain his tears when some of the young pickmen
sang an ancient ditty in praise of the miner's calling, and of the
happiness of his lot, to a simple melody which touched his heart and
soul.

"When this song was ended, Pehrson Dahlsjoe opened his door, and the