lgotha of Hythe my brother and
myself could scarcely lift, must have resembled in one respect at least
this Harald, whom Snorro describes as a great and wise ruler and a
determined leader, dangerous in battle, of fair presence, and measuring
in height just _five ells_, {13} neither more nor less.

I never forgot the Daneman's skull; like the apparition of the viper in
the sandy lane, it dwelt in the mind of the boy, affording copious food
for the exercise of imagination. From that moment with the name of Dane
were associated strange ideas of strength, daring, and superhuman
stature; and an undefinable curiosity for all that is connected with the
Danish race began to pervade me; and if, long after, when I became a
student, I devoted myself with peculiar zest to Danish lore and the
acquirement of the old Norse tongue and its dialects, I can only explain
the matter by the early impression received at Hythe from the tale of the
old sexton, beneath the pent-house, and the sight of the Danish skull.

And thus we went on straying from place to place, at Hythe to-day, and
perhaps within a week looking out from our hostel-window upon the streets
of old Winchester, our motions ever in accordance with the "route" of the
regiment, so habituated to change of scene that it had become almost
necessary to our existence. Pleasant were those days of my early
boyhood; and a melancholy pleasure steals over me as I recall them. Those
were stirring times of which I am speaking, and there was much passing
around me calculated to captivate the imagination. The dreadful struggle
which so long convulsed Europe, and in which England bore so prominent a
part, was then at its hottest; we were at war, and determination and
enthusiasm shone in every face; man, woman and child were eager to fight
the Frank, the hereditary, but, thank God, never dreaded enemy of the
Anglo-Saxon race. "Love your country and beat the French, and then never
mind what happens," was the cry of entire England. Oh, those were days
of power, gallant days, bustling days, worth the bravest days of
chivalry, at least; tall battalions of native warriors were marching
through the land; there was the glitter of the bayonet and the gleam of
the sabre; the shrill squeak of the fife and loud rattling of the drum
were heard in the streets of country towns, and the loyal shouts of the
inhabitants greeted the soldiery on their arrival, or cheered them at
their departure. And now le