ty of friends! Of
course they presented their bill when you were about to leave them, but
in all other respects the idea of a hotel was banished from the mind.

"Supper," cried Temple, on entering the house.

"Ya, ya," (yes, yes), in cheerful tones from two of Madame Sontoom's
daughters.

Then followed a violent conversation in the Norse language, in which
there was much that was puzzling, and more that was amusing, for the
Norwegian ladies were talkative and inquisitive.

Fred Temple had studied the Norse language for three months before
setting out on this voyage, and, being a good linguist he understood a
good deal of what was said, and could make his own wants known pretty
well. Grant had studied the language also, but not for so long a time,
and, being an indifferent linguist, he made little headway in
conversation. As to Sam Sorrel, he had no talent for languages. He
hated every language but his mother-tongue, had not studied Norse at
all, and did not intend to do so. It may be supposed, therefore, that
he was dumb. Far from it. He had picked up a few phrases by ear, and
was so fond of making use of these, and of twisting them into all shapes
and out of all shape, that he really appeared to be a great talker of
Norse, although in reality he could scarcely talk at all!

Supper consisted of coffee, rolls, eggs, "gamleost" (old cheese),
lobster, and smoked salmon. The viands were good, the appetites were
also good, so the supper went off admirably.

"Ver so goot," said one of the young ladies, handing Mr Sorrel a plate
of smoked salmon.

"Tak, tak," (thanks, thanks), said our artist, accepting the salmon, and
beginning to devour it.

"I say, what d'ye mean by `ver so goot'? You're never done saying it.
What does it mean?"

The fair waitress laughed, and bowed politely, as much as to say, "I
don't understand English."

"Can you explain it, Fred?" said Sam.

"Well, yes, I can give you a sort of explanation," replied Fred, "but it
is not an easy sentence to translate. `Ver so goot' (another claw of
that lobster, please. Thanks),--`ver so goot' is an expression that
seems to me capable of extension and distension. It is a comfortable,
jovial, rollicking expression, if I may say so. I cannot think of a
better way of conveying an idea of its meaning than saying that it is a
compound of the phrases `be so good,' `by your leave,' `good luck to
you,' `go it, ye cripples,' and `that's your sort.' Th