address, and to-day this "Golden Rain" of Denmark is growing beautifully
in his garden in Pittsburg.

We saw and explored Copenhagen thoroughly. The King of Denmark was
absent from the capital, but we stood in front of his palace with the
usual interest of visitors, little expecting to be entertained there, as
afterwards we were. It all came as a surprise.

We were on our way to the station to leave Copenhagen, when Mr.
Swenson, the American Minister, overtook us and informed us that the
Crown Prince and Princess desired to receive Dr. Talmage and his family
at the summer palace. Though it may be at the risk of _lese majeste_ to
say it, some persuasion was necessary to induce the Doctor to remain
over. Our trunks were already at the station and Dr. Talmage was anxious
to get up to the North Cape. However, the American Minister finally
prevailed upon the Doctor to consider the importance of a request from
royalty, and we went back to the hotel into the same rooms we had just
left.

Our presentation took place the next day at the summer palace, which is
five miles from Copenhagen. It was the most informally delightful
meeting. The formalities of royalty that are sometimes made to appear so
overwhelming to the ordinary individual, were so gracefully interwoven
by the Crown Prince and the Princess with cordiality and courtesy, that
we were as perfectly at ease, as if there had been crowns hovering over
our own heads. The royal children were all present, too, and we talked
and walked and laughed together like a family party. The Crown Princess
said to me, "Come, let me show you my garden," and we strolled in the
beautiful grounds. The Crown Prince said, "Come, let me show you my
den," and there gave us the autographs of himself and the Princess. We
left regretfully. As we drove away the royal party were gathered at the
front windows of the palace waving their handkerchiefs to us in graceful
adieus. I remember my little daughter was very much surprised with the
simplicity of the whole affair, saying to me as we drove away, "Why, it
was just like visiting Grandpa's home."

On our way to Troendhjem from Copenhagen we stayed over a few days at
Christiania, where we were the guests of Nansen, the Arctic explorer.
His home, which stood out near the water's edge, was like a bungalow
made of pine logs. There were no carpets on the floors, which were
covered with the skins of animals he had himself killed. Trophies of all
sorts