up for something to do. To a great extent Paul was right; Slewbury
was a dull, sleepy and prim old town, but boys ought to be able to make
amusements for themselves anywhere; they should have resources within
themselves. Paul had loads of toys, and books, and tools, and a nice
large garden to play in when the weather was fine. But he was a restless
boy, full of longing for adventure and travel, and new sights, and sounds,
and experiences, and the happiest time of the whole year to him was the
summer holiday when all the family went away to the sea, or to some
beautiful spot amongst the mountains.

True, the sea had always been the English sea--at least it had come to
them at an English seaside town--and the mountains had been either Welsh
or Scotch mountains, but the three little Anketells were true British
children and were quite sure there could be no more beautiful mountains or
coasts anywhere in the world.

As soon as the Christmas holidays were over and school work had set in,
the children began to think of where they should go when the summer
holidays came, and what they would do, and many and many a discussion they
had as to their favourite spots, and whether they should go to an old
favourite, or try a new one. Plans were made, toys collected, and boxes
packed long before the happy day came, but it all added to the pleasure
and excitement and importance of the long-looked-forward-to event.

But dearly as they loved their own country, they had no objection to going
further afield, and when one day Mr. Anketell suggested that that year
they should spend their holiday in Norway, their excitement knew no
bounds. All previous travels and expeditions seemed to sink into
insignificance beside this. To be actually going to live, and sleep, and
eat, on board a real steamer, and to cross the sea to another land seemed
to them a splendid outlook. Every book and picture that could tell them
anything about Norway was eagerly hunted up, all the Norwegian fairy tales
were read again and again, until Stella and Michael at last felt quite
sure that they would meet fairies, and dwarfs, and Vikings wherever they
went. They had no idea what a Viking was like, but they thought it must
be something between a giant and a knight, with all the good qualities of
both.

There never could have been a greater inducement to learn geography and
history than this long-talked-of trip. All through the term Stella and
Mike studied the