f me, I can't
tell why it is that young ladies and gentlemen should be thus
everlastingly at war. Would it not be better to kiss and make it up,
and try, if possible, to get along peaceably through the world?

But the steamer blows her whistle--the bell rings--I must hurry on
board. Good-by, dear Finns, big and little, I like you all. God bless
you! Good-by old Abo, with your ancient church, and your moss-grown
streets, and deserts of houses--I feel sorry for you, but I can't help
it! Good-by, Russia! If I don't call again, attribute it to no want of
interest in the great cause of civilization. Just drop me a line and
let me know when the serfs are free and a constitutional government is
established, and I will strain a point to pay my respects to Alexander
II. I rather like the young man, and have an idea that he is capable
of noble deeds and heroic sacrifices. But he must abolish his secret
police, punish them for whipping women, open universities upon a
liberal basis, throw the camarilla and the aristocracy overboard, quit
murdering the poor Poles at Warsaw, and do several other things before
he can have my support. Should he accomplish these beneficial reforms,
and at any future time think proper to settle in my neighborhood,
where the climate is more genial, I shall cheerfully vote for him as
mayor of the city of Oakland.

CHAPTER XXIV.

STOCKHOLM.

The passage from Abo to Stockholm occupies about eighteen hours, and
in fine weather affords a constant succession of agreeable scenes.
With the exception of about four hours of open sea in crossing the
Gulf of Bothnia, the steamer is constantly surrounded by islands, many
of them highly picturesque, and all interesting from their peculiar
geological formation. Occasionally the island winds like a snake
through a wilderness of naked granite boulders, round and slippery,
and barely high enough out of the water to afford a foundation for a
few fishermen's huts, which from time to time break the monotony of
their solitude. Sometimes the channel opens out into broad lakes,
apparently hemmed in on all sides by pine-covered cliffs; then passing
between a series of frightful crags, upthrown, as it were, out of the
water by some convulsion of nature, the surging waves lash their way
through the narrow passages, and threaten each moment to ingulf the
frail vessel, or dash it to atoms against the rocks. The greatest
danger in making this trip arises from the number o