road. A narrow inclosure separates the road from the Rauma.

What a wild solitary existence in the depth of winter's snow must the peasant owner of this cottage lead!

For dinner we had soup made of ham, peaflour, wild sorrel, rice, Liebig's essence, and the dried meat of Holiaker for the third time. We tried to purchase some potatoes from the peasant living in the nearest log cottage to our camp, but he had none ready to get up. The musketos had not troubled us much since we had camped in the valley; but we had met with two large black ants, or, as the gipsies call them, "creas," near our tent. They measured exactly three-quarters of an inch long.

After dinner we all went out fishing, whilst Esmeralda was left in charge of the tents. Several peasants came to look at the donkeys during the afternoon. Some travellers, hastily proceeding, stopped their stolkjerrers and, looking wildly round, hastened to where the donkeys were quietly grazing.

MUSICAL

CHAPTER XXIII.

"He checked his steed, and sighed to mark
Her coral lips, her eyes so dark,
And stately bearing-as she had been
Bred up in courts, and born a queen.
Again he came, and again he came,-
Each day with a warmer, a wilder flame;
And still again,- till sleep by night,
For Judith's sake, fled his pillow quite."

Judith, the Gipsy Belle. By DELTA.

PEASANT CASCADES THE LEANING-STONE - THE SERIOUS PEASANT ZACHARIAH ILL-NO VENTILATION-THE MAGICIAN'S PEAKS -THE MANGEHÖE-" RAMULOUS"-ROMANTIC VALLEY AGREEABLE VISITORS-THE SERENADE-FUTURE ROUTE-HORGHEIM-RIP VAN

WINKLE.

THE young peasant who played the concertina came and looked at the fence next the leaning-stone. He probably owned the adjoining enclosed land. Esmeralda said she thought he seemed doubtful whether part of his fence had not gone on to our fire. Esmeralda at once gave him some brandy, and he seemed pleased, and went and brought her a large heap of fire-wood. Strict injunctions had been given, that the dead wood, and there was plenty of it, should only be taken from the adjoining bushes.

A party of English travellers passed towards Veblungsnoes, and another towards Christiania. One young lady, who saw Noah fishing, asked if he had caught any. Our

gipsies returned to tea at eight o'clock. Plenty of fried trout, tea, fladbröd, and butter formed our meal. Zachariah was very cold, and unwell at tea, with severe pain in his shoulders. We sent him to bed, and rubbed him with

brandy, and gave him some to drink. One young peasant came, and seemed to have ridden some distance to see the donkeys. The valley of our camp was beautiful. Like Rasselas, we seemed completely shut in from the

outer world; that portion of the valley towards Veblungsnoes, by the Sjiriaglns Fjeld, which forms a barrier of three lofty bastions of rock, jutting forth in rugged outline, and rounded summit, marked with streaks of snow.

Sterile crags of dark and green rock have here and there cascades, falling through the air, from the highest summits of these mural precipices. No egress seems possible from below. White fleecy clouds of mist gather on the upper cliffs, relieved by the green verdure which clothes the sides of the valley. The foliage creeps and feathers up the high ramparts of rock, till lost in the regions of desolation and sterility. What magnificent waterfalls leap forth from the hidden recesses of mist and cloud. They fall in thick white foam, are scattered in floating spray, glittering in a myriad of spangles, when illumined by the passing gleams of sun. Down, down, the white foam falls to depths far beneath. Birch-woods mingled with the fir stand forth from their mossy beds, and line the valley with the richest colouring. The gurgling waters of the Rauma wind their course along, fringed at the sides with birch and alder,* wild flowers, grass, and fern.

* Alnus glutinosa. This tree is often met with on the banks of the rivers of England and Wales, as in Norway. Occasionally we have met, in a secluded valley in Wales, a party of "cloggers," who have bought a quantity of this wood, and are converting it on the spot into clogs. They are cloggers out for the summer. The alder wood is being worked up under a light awning, or half-tent sort of abri, from the rain and sun. The cloggers generally sleep at some house until the stock of wood is converted into men's, women's, and children's clogs, which are consigned from time to time, by the nearest railway, to Lancashire. The alder wood is valuable for piles for bridges, as it lasts long under water. The Rialto at Venice is built on alder piles. The bark and leaves are useful for dyeing and tanning leather, and in staining sabots in France, which are also made of this wood. Alder wood is light in weight, and easily worked. The dark bark and foliage of the spreading branches of the tree, which overhangs the river's edge, gives picturesque effect to many a Norwegian river scene.

Unceasing moisture gives the freshest green, and a luxuriant ground of varied colour carves forth a natural setting, to the romantic woods of birch, the juniper, and the Norwegian pine, unrivalled in conception, and inimitable by the art of man.

About eleven o'clock at night we were writing these notes by the leaning-stone, near the remains of our camp fire, when the old man from the nearest log cottage came up, and asked what o'clock it was. As he came noiselessly round the leaning-stone, we motioned him to take a seat, on a loose piece of rock near to us. When he sat down we noticed that he was one of those deep-lined featured men, who seem worn by exposure and hard living. Telling him the hour, he looked curiously at our gold watch, which we at once showed to him. This was supplemented by a glass of brandy, and some tobacco, with which he filled his pipe. As he sat by the embers of our fire, in answer to some questions about the winters in Norway, the peasant looked fixedly, and earnestly at us, and said, "Meget kalt, meget ice, meget snee," and he raised his hand high above the ground. The tone in which he slowly said these words, in deep-marked emphasis, we shall not easily forget. Many of his countrymen, he said, went to America. The peasant then asked

about England, and its climate. He told us there were many reindeer, and he went after them into the mountains. No one was allowed to shoot them from the 1st April to the 1st August. He remained sitting with us, and talking by the large stone. At last he suddenly asked what o'clock it was, and when we told him the hour, he wished us good night, and departed. It was nearly twelve o'clock when we went to bed.