ongue of Norway and there is a strong
affinity between Danish, (or Norse), and broad Scotch. Roughly
speaking, I should say that a mixture of three words of Norse to two of
broad Scotch, with a powerful emphasis and a strong infusion of
impudence, will carry you from the Naze to the North Cape in perfect
comfort.

Bergen is a most interesting city, and our party had many small
adventures in it, which, however, I will not touch on here. But one
scene--the fish-market--must not be passed over.

There must certainly be something in the atmosphere of a fish-market
which tends to call forth the mental and physical energies of mankind,
(perhaps I should rather say of _womankind_), and which calls forth a
tremendous flow of abusive language. Billingsgate is notorious, but I
think that the Bergen fish-market beats it hollow. One or two phases of
the national character are there displayed in perfection. It is the
Billingsgate of Norway--the spot where Norse females are roused to a
pitch of frenzy that is not equalled, I believe, in any other country.

There are one or two peculiarities about the Bergen market, too, which
are noteworthy, and which account in some degree for the frantic
excitement that reigns there. The sellers of the fish, in the first
place, are not women but men. The pier and fleet of boats beside it
constitute the market-place. The fishermen row their cargoes of fish
direct from the sea to the pier, and there transact sales. There is a
stout iron railing along the edge of that pier--a most needful
safeguard--over which the servant girls of the town lean and look down
at the fishermen, who look up at them with a calm serio-comic
"don't-you-wish-you-may-get-it" expression that is deeply impressive.
Bargains, of course, are not easily made, and it is in attempting to
make these that all the hubbub occurs. The noise is all on the women's
side. The men, secure in their floating position, and certain of
ultimate success, pay very little attention to the flaxen-haired,
blue-eyed damsels who shout at them like maniacs, waving their arms,
shaking their fists, snapping their fingers, and flourishing their
umbrellas! They all carry umbrellas--cotton ones--of every colour in
the rainbow, chiefly pink and sky-blue, for Bergen is celebrated as
being the most rainy city in Europe.

The shouting of the girls is not only a safety-valve to their feelings,
but is absolutely necessary in order to attract the atten