s Christian Andersen, in one of his
most delightful works, has thrown a romantic interest over the scenery
of Jutland, giving a charm to its very desolation, and investing with
all the beauty of a genial humanity the rude lives of the gipsies and
fishermen who inhabit this wild region of drifting sands and wintry
tempests. Steen Blicher has also cast over it the spell of his poetic
genius; and Von Buch, in his graphic narrative, has given a memorable
interest to its sea-girt shores, where "masts and skeletons of vessels
stand like a range of palisades."

During our passage through the Skager-Rack we passed innumerable
fleets of fishing-smacks, and often encountered the diminutive skiffs
of the fishermen, with two or three amphibious occupants, buffeting
about among the waves many miles from the shore. The weather had been
steadily growing worse ever since our departure from Copenhagen. As we
entered the North Sea it began to blow fiercer than ever, and for two
days we experienced all the discomforts of chopping seas that
drenched our decks fore and aft, and chilling gales mingled with fogs
and heavy rains. It was cold enough for midwinter, yet here we were on
the verge of midsummer. Our little craft was rendered somewhat
unmanageable by a deck-load of coal and a heavy cargo of freight, and
there were periods when I would have thought myself fortunate in being
once more off Cape Horn in the good ship _Pacific_. The amtman and his
young bride spent this portion of their honey-moon performing a kind
of duet that reminded me of my friend Ross Wallace's lines in
"Perdita:"

"Like two sweet tunes that wandering met,
And so harmoniously they run,
The hearer deems they are but one."

At least the harmony was perfect, whatever might be thought of the
music in other respects. Young Jonasen swallowed a few more sardines
about this period of the voyage, which he vainly attempted to secure
by sudden and violent contractions of the diaphragm. In short, there
were but two persons in the cabin besides Captain Andersen and myself
who had the temerity to appear at table--one an old Danish merchant,
who generally received advices, midway through the meal, requiring his
immediate presence on deck; and the other a gentleman from Holstein,
who always lost his appetite after the soup, and had to jump up and
run to his state-room for exercise.

In due time we sighted the shores of Scotland. A pilot came on board
inside the Fr