it is the general custom in Sweden, in
remote districts, for travellers to call without ceremony upon the
parson, magistrate, or any other prominent man in a village, and claim
his hospitality. In spite of this doubtful reception, considering that
our horses were already stabled and the station three or four miles
further, I remarked again: "But perhaps we may be allowed to remain here
until morning?" "I will ask," he replied, left the room, and soon
returned with an affirmative answer.

We had a large, handsomely furnished room, with a sofa and curtained
bed, into which we tumbled as soon as the servant-girl, in compliance
with a hint of mine, had brought up some bread, milk, and cheese. We had
a cup of coffee in the morning, and were preparing to leave when the
_patron_ appeared. He was a short, stout, intelligent Swede, who greeted
us courteously, and after a little conversation, urged us to stay until
after breakfast. We were too hungry to need much persuasion, and indeed
the table set with _tjade_, or capercailie (one of the finest game birds
in the world), potatoes, cranberries, and whipped cream, accompanied
with excellent Umea ale, and concluded with coffee, surpassed anything
we had sat down to for many a day. The _patron_ gave me considerable
information about the country, and quieted a little anxiety I was
beginning to feel, by assuring me that we should find post-horses all
the way to Muonioniska, still ninety-five miles distant. He informed me
that we had already got beyond the daylight, as the sun had not yet
risen at Kengis. This, however, was in consequence of a hill to the
southward, as we afterwards found that the sun was again above the
horizon.

We laid in fuel enough to last us through the day, and then took leave
of our host, who invited us to visit him on our return. Crossing the
Tornea, an hour's drive over the hills brought us to the village of
Kexisvara, where we were obliged to wait some time for our horses. At
the inn there was a well forty feet deep, with the longest sweep-pole I
ever saw. The landlady and her two sisters were pleasant bodies, and
sociably inclined, if we could have talked to them. They were all
spinning tow, their wheels purring like pleased lionesses. The sun's
disc came in sight at a quarter past eleven, and at noon his lower limb
just touched the horizon. The sky was of a splendid saffron hue, which
changed into a burning brassy yellow.

Our horses promised little for