against my knee
in the process of bowing throughout the cities of Germany, and the
shaking of various boys' hands on my trip through Norway, I consider
that my politeness now qualifies me for any society.

[Illustration: NORWEGIAN PEASANT FAMILY.]

It must not be understood, however, that I was always favored with the
society of little boys. At one of the stations, which, for obvious
reasons, it would be indiscreet to name, there was no boy visible
except the ragamuffin who had accompanied me. He, of course, was
obliged to return with the horse and cariole. Three white-headed old
men were sitting on a log near the stable basking in the sun, and
gossiping pleasantly about by-gone times or the affairs of state, I
could not understand which. Each of these venerable worthies wore a
red night-cap, which in this country answers likewise for a day-cap,
and smoked a massive wooden pipe. It was a very pleasant picture of
rural content. As I approached they nodded a smiling "_God Aften!_"
and rose to unharness the horse. An elderly lady, of very neat
appearance and pleasing expression, came to the door and bade me a
kindly welcome. Then the three old men all began to talk to me
together, and when they said what they had to say about the fine
weather, and the road, and the quality of the horse, and whatever else
came into their antiquated heads, they led the horse off to the
stable and proceeded to get me a fresh one. While they were doing that
the elderly lady went back into the house and called aloud for some
person within. Presently a fine buxom young girl, about seventeen
years of age, made her appearance at the door. I flattered myself she
wore rather a pleased expression when she saw me; but that might have
been the customary cast of her features, or vanity on my part. At all
events, there was a glowing bloom in her cheeks, and a penetrating
brilliancy in her large blue eyes, wonderfully fascinating to one who
had not recently looked upon any thing very attractive in the line of
female loveliness. She was certainly a model of rustic beauty--I had
rarely seen her equal in any country. Nothing could be more lithe and
graceful than her form, which was advantageously set off by a tight
bodice and a very scanty petticoat. A pair of red woolen stockings
conspicuously displayed the fine contour of her--ankles I suppose is
the conventional expression, though I mean a great deal more than
that. As she sprang down the steps with a