advance, but he deserves it."

A few moments later it troubled him. "I am a fool like the rest!" said
he, and wished he could annihilate the paper. He was summoned on board.
The Little Belt is only a river between the two countries; he soon found
himself upon Jutland ground; the whip cracked, the wheels turned round,
like the wheels of fortune, up and down, yet ever onward.

Late in the evening he arrived at an inn. From his solitary chamber
his thoughts flew in opposite directions; now toward the solitary
country-seat of his grandfather, among the sand-hills; now toward the
animated mansion in Funen, where the new friends resided. He had
opened his box and taken out what lay quite at the top, the garland of
oak-leaves and the beautiful bouquet of flowers of this morning.

Most people maintain that one dreams at night of that which one has
thought much about. According to this, Otto must have thought a deal
about the North Sea, for of it he dreamed the whole night,--not of the
young ladies.

CHAPTER XIII

"The heat-lark warbles forth his sepulchral melodies."
S. S. BLICHER.

The peninsula of Jutland possesses nothing of the natural beauty
which Zealand and Funen present--splendid beeches and odoriferous
clover-fields in the neighborhood of the salt sea; it possesses at
once a wild and desolate nature, in the heath-covered expanses and the
far-stretching moors. East and west are different; like the green, sappy
leaf, and grayish white sea-weed on the sea shore. From the Woods of
Marselisborg to the woods south of Coldinger Fjord, is the land rich
and blooming; it is the Danish Nature in her greatness. Here rises the
Heaven Mountain, with its wilderness of coppice and heather; from here
you gaze over the rich landscape, with its woods and lakes, as far down
as the roaring Cattegat.

The western coast, on the contrary, lies without a tree, without bushes,
with nothing but white sand-hills stretching along the roaring ocean,
which scourges the melancholy coast with sand-storms and sharp winds.
Between these contrasts, which the east and west coasts present, the
Hesperides and Siberia, lies the vast heath which stretches itself from
the Lyneborg sand to the Skagen's reef. No hedge shows here the limits
of possession. Among the crossing tracks of carriage wheels must thou
seek thy way. Crippled oaks, with whitish-green moss overgrown to the
outermost branches, twist