whip-cord, whose blood runs in a strong full stream, whose im pulses are perfectly natural, who are good without knowing it, and who are happy without trying to be so. We made two Swedish miles by noon, and then took a breakfast of fried reindeer meat and pancakes, of which we ate enormously, to keep up a good supply of fuel. Braisted and I consumed about a pound of butter between us. This intense cold begets a necessity for fat, and with the necessity comes the taste-a wise provision of Nature! The consciousness now dawned upon me that I might be able to relish train-oil and tallow-candles before we had done with Lapland. I had tough work at each station to get my head out of my wrappings, which were united with my beard and hair in one solid lump. The cold increased instead of diminishing, and by the time we reached Gumboda, at dusk, it was 40° below zero. When the thermometer was brought in, the mercury was frozen, and on unmuffling I found the end of my nose seared as if with a hot iron. The inn was capital; we had a warm carpeted room, beds of clean, lavendered linen, and all civilized appliances. The weather became worse as we advanced, traversing the low, broad hills, through wastes of dark pine forests. The wind cut like a sharp sword in passing the hollows, and the drifting snow began to fill the tracks. We were full two hours in making the ten miles to Frostkage, and the day seemed scarcely nearer at hand. The leaden, lowering sky gave out no light, the forests were black and cold, the sun a dusky gray—such horribly dismal scenery I have rarely beheld. We warmed ourselves as well as we could, and started anew, having for postilions two rosy boys, who sang the whole way and played all sorts of mad antics with each other to keep from freezing. At the next station we drank large quantities of hot milk, flavored with butter, sugar, and cinnamon, and then pushed on, with another chubby hop-o'-my-thumb as guide and driver. The storm grew worse and worse: the wind blew fiercely over the low hills, loaded with particles of snow as fine as the point of a needle and as hard as crystal, which struck full on my eyeballs and stung them so that they could scarcely see. I had great difficulty in keeping my face from freezing, and my companion found his cheek touched. By the time we reached Abyn it blew a hurricane, and we were compelled to stop. It was already dusk, and our cosy little room was doubly pleasant by contrast with the wild weather outside. Our cheerful landlady, with her fresh complexion and splendid teeth, was very kind and attentive, and I got on very well in conversation, notwithstanding her broad dialect. She was much astonished at my asking for a bucket of cold water for bathing. "Why," said she, "I always thought that if a person put his feet into cold water in winter, he would die immediately." However, she supplied it, and was a little surprised to find me none the worse in the morning. I passed a terrible night from the pain in my face, and was little comforted, on rising, by the assurance that much snow had fallen. The mercury had risen to zero, and the wind still blew, although not so furiously as on the previous day. We therefore determined to set out and try to reach Pitea. The landlady's son, a tall young Viking, with yellow locks hanging on his shoulders, acted as postilion, and took the lead. We started at nine, and found it heavy enough at first. It was barely light enough to see our way, and we floundered slowly along through deep drifts for a mile, when we met the snow-plows, after which our road became easier. These plows are wooden frames, shaped somewhat like the bow of a shipin fact, I have seen very fair clipper models among them-about fifteen feet long by ten feet wide at the base, and so light that, if the snow is not too deep, one horse can manage them. The farmers along the road are obliged to turn out at six o'clock in the morning whenever the snow falls or drifts, and open a passage for travelers. Thus, in spite of the rigorous winter, communication is never interrupted, and the snow-road, at last, from frequent plowing, becomes the finest sleighing track in the world. The wind blew so violently, however, that the furrows were soon filled up, and even the track of the baggage-sled, fifty yards in advance, was covered. There was one hollow where the drifts of loose snow were five or six feet deep, and here we were obliged to get out and struggle across, sinking to our loins at every step. It is astonishing how soon one becomes hardened to the cold Although the mercury stood at zero, with a violent storm, we rode with our faces fully exposed, frost-bites and all, and even drove with bare hands, without the least discomfort. But of the scenery we saw this day, I can give no description. There was nothing but long drifts and waves of spotless snow, some dim, dark, spectral fir-trees on either hand, and beyond that a wild chaos of storm. The snow came fast and blinding, beating full in our teeth. It was impossible to see; the fine particles so stung our eyeballs that we could not look ahead. My eyelashes were loaded with snow, which immediately turned to ice and froze the lids together, unless I kept them in constant motion. The storm hummed and buzzed through the black forests; we were all alone on the road, for even the pious Swedes would not turn out to church on such a day. It was terribly sublime and desolate, and I enjoyed it amazingly. We kept warm, although there was a crust of ice a quarter of an inch thick on our cheeks, and the ice in our beards prevented us from opening our mouths. At one o'clock we reached the second station, Gefre, unrecognizable by our nearest friends. Our eyelashes were weighed down with heavy fringes of frozen snow, there were icicles an inch long hanging to the eaves of our moustaches, and the handkerchiefs which wrapped our faces were frozen fast to the flesh. The skin was rather improved by this treatment, but it took us a great while to thaw out. TO THE NILE. FROM POEMS OF THE ORIENT." MYSTERIOUS Flood,-that through the silent sands Art thou the keeper of that eldest lore, Thou guardest temple and vast pyramid, Where the gray Past records its ancient speech; All other streams with human joys and fears What were to thee the Osirian festivals? Or Memnon's music on the Theban plain? Even then thou wast a God, and shrines were built And past the bannered pylons that arose Thou givest blessing as a God might give, In thy solemnity, thine awful calm, Thy grand indifference of Destiny, My soul forgets its pain, and drinks the balm Thy godship is unquestioned still: I bring ON LEAVING CALIFORNIA. FROM "ROMANCES AND LYRICS." O FAIR young land, the youngest, fairest far Whose guardian planet, Evening's silver star, How art thou conquered, tamed in all the pride How brought, O panther of the splendid hide, No more thou sittest on thy tawny hills Or pour'st the crystal of a thousand rills But where the wild-oats wrapped thy knees in gold, And where, through cañons deep, thy streams are rolled, Yet in thy lap, thus rudely rent and torn, Mother of mighty men, thou shalt not mourn Thy human children shall restore the grace The wild, barbaric beauty of thy face And Order, Justice, Social Law shall curb And Art and Science, with their dreams superb, The marble, sleeping in thy mountains now, Thy native oak shall crown the sage's brow,-- Thy tawny hills shall bleed their purple wine, And Music, with her eloquence divine, Till Hesper, as he trims his silver beam, And Earth shall find her old Arcadian dream |