obliged to visit both Germany and England, before returning to
spend the summer in Norway. As neither of those countries comes within
the scope of the present work, I shall spare the reader a recapitulation
of my travels for six weeks after leaving Copenhagen. Midsummer's Day
was ten days past before I was ready to resume the journey, and there
was no time to be lost, if I wished to see the midnight sun from the
cliffs of the North Cape. I therefore took the most direct route, from
London, by the way of Hull, whence a steamer was to sail on the 3rd of
July for Christiania.

We chose one of the steamers of the English line, to our subsequent
regret, as the Norwegian vessels are preferable, in most respects. I
went on board on Friday evening, and on asking for my berth, was taken
into a small state-room, containing ten. "Oh, there's only _seven_
gentleman goin' in here, this time," said the steward, noticing my look
of dismay, "and then you can sleep on a sofa in the saloon, if you like
it better." On referring to the steamer's framed certificate, I found
that she was 250 tons' burden, and constructed to carry 171 cabin and
230 deck passengers! The state-room for ten passengers had a single
wash-basin, but I believe we had as many as four small towels, which was
a source of congratulation. "What a jolly nice boat it is!" I heard one
of the English passengers exclaim. The steward, who stood up for the
dignity of the vessel, said: "Oh, you'll find it very pleasant; we 'ave
only twenty passengers, and we once 'ad heighty-four."

In the morning we were upon the North Sea, rolling with a short,
nauseating motion, under a dismal, rainy sky. "It always rains when you
leave Hull," said the mate, "and it always rains when you come back to
it." I divided my time between sea sickness and Charles Reade's novel of
"Never too Late to Mend," a cheery companion under such circumstances.
The purposed rowdyism of the man's style shows a little too plainly, but
his language is so racy and muscular, his characters so fairly and
sharply drawn, that one must not be censorious. Towards evening I
remembered that it was the Fourth, and so procured a specific for
sea-sickness, with which Braisted and I, sitting alone on the main
hatch, in the rain, privately remembered our Fatherland. There was on
board an American sea-captain, of Norwegian birth, as I afterwards
found, who would gladly have joined us. The other passengers were three
Norwegians,