urs arose from the spangled grass, and the day
gradually grew milder. I was amused at the _naive_ curiosity of the
landlady and her daughter-in-law, who came into our room very early,
that they might see the make of our garments and our manner of dressing.
As they did not appear to be conscious of any impropriety, we did not
think it necessary to feel embarrassed. Our Lapland journey had taught
us habits of self-possession under such trying circumstances. We had
coffee, paid an absurdly small sum for our entertainment, and took a
cordial leave of the good people. A boy of fifteen, whose eyes, teeth
and complexion kept my admiration on the stretch during the whole stage,
drove us through unbroken woods to Skamhed, ten miles further down the
valley. Here the inn was a little one story hut, miserable to behold
externally, but containing a neat guest's room and moreover, as we
discovered in the course of time--a good breakfast. While we were
waiting there, a man came up who greeted us in the name of our Lord
Jesus Christ, on learning that we came from America. "Are you not afraid
to travel so far from home?" he asked: "how could you cross the great
sea?" "Oh," I answered, "there is no more danger in one part of the
world than another." "Yes," said he, "God is as near on the water as on
the land"--unconsciously repeating the last words of Sir Humphrey
Gilbert: "Christ walked upon the waves and quieted them, and he walks
yet, for them that believe in Him." Hereupon he began repeating some
hymns, mingled with texts of Scripture, which process he continued until
we became heartily tired. I took him at a venture, for an
over-enthusiastic _Lasare_, or "Reader," the name given to the Swedish
dissenters.

We had a station of twenty three miles before us, to the village of
Landbobyn, which lies in the wooded wilderness between Osterdal and
Westerdal. Our postillion, a fine young fellow of twenty-two, over six
feet in height, put on his best blue jacket and knee-breeches, with a
leather apron reaching from his shoulders to below his knees. This is an
article worn by almost all Dalecarlians for the purpose of saving their
clothes while at work, and gives them an awkward and ungraceful air.
This fellow, in spite of a little fear at the bare idea, expressed his
willingness to go with us all over the world, but the spirit of
wandering was evidently so easy to be kindled in him, that I rather
discouraged him. We had a monotonous journey o