were also dear to me. Then I thought of Charles, of Arthur, of William,
of Louis, of John, of Robert, of Frank, of George, of Anson, of
Mortimer, of Eddy, of Fred, and of many others.

Many of the girls and boys call me either "Paul," "Friend Paul," or
"Uncle Paul;" some of the girls call me "Cousin Paul." These are my
chums, and it is lovely to have chums! I thought of the fun and good
times I had had with all of them; and I felt on that day that I loved
them more than ever as the great ocean separated us.

I thought of all the young folks whom I had talked to in the public or
private schools in many of the States,--for if there is a thing Friend
Paul likes, it is to talk to the young folks at school. As I thought of
this, it seemed as if I could see them listening to me.

I suddenly became very homesick. I said to myself: "I will go to America
and see my dear friends, and then return to go to 'The Land of the Long
Night.'" I could cross the Sound, go to Copenhagen,--the city was almost
in sight, and a nice city it is,--and take one of the comfortable
steamers of the Thingvalla Line, now called Scandinavian-American Line,
for New York.

As I was thinking of this, it suddenly seemed to me that I heard voices
coming across the Atlantic,--voices from friends, from school girls and
boys, calling: "Friend Paul, go on, go on to 'The Land of the Long
Night' first, and then come and tell us how it is there. Be of good
cheer; no harm will befall you; you will be all right."

Friend Paul cheered up when in imagination he had heard the voices of
his young friends urging him to go on, and he answered back: "Girls and
boys, you are right. I am going to 'The Land of the Long Night' first,
and on my return I will tell you all that I have seen there."

The dear old horse did not know what I was thinking, and was trotting
along--until suddenly he made a sharp turn and entered the post station,
the end of his journey. There I changed horse and vehicle, took some
refreshment, and started again. During the afternoon, I came to the town
of Landskrona. There, looking towards the Sound, I saw a steamer of the
Thingvalla Line gliding over the sea on its way to New York, and I said
aloud, "Steamer, you are not going to take me home this time. I am going
to 'The Land of the Long Night' first, to the land of snow and of gales,
the land of the bear, of the wolf, of the fox, and of the ermine.
Good-bye, good-bye, dear steamer! I hope you wil