d then quietly disappeared. The dancers
of the cotillon waited for the supper, which they said was magnificent
and sufficient for a hungry army.

ROME, _February 1881_.

Dear ----,--The two sons of the King of Sweden (Prince Oscar and Prince
Carl) are here for a fortnight's visit, and are seeing Rome thoroughly
in the company of two chamberlains, two cicerones, and some friends.
The young princes gave a dinner at the Hotel Quirinal, to which we
were invited. They had engaged the Neapolitan singers from Naples, who
sang the most delightful and lively songs. We felt like dancing a
_saltarello_, and perhaps might have done so if we had been in less
princely presences. The Scandinavian Club gave a feast--the finest and
greatest in the annals of the club--in honor of the two princes, to
welcome the Swedish and Norwegian Minister's bride, and also to
welcome us--a great combination--and to celebrate the carnival by a
fancy ball.

People were begged to come in costume, which, to be amiable, every one
was delighted to do. The costumes were not original. Roman peasants
were abundant. This costume needs only a towel folded square and put on
the head, and a Roman apron, easily obtained at the Campo di Fiore for
a song. Flower-girls with hats turned up on the side and baskets of
flowers were also popular. The handsome Prince Carl, who is six feet
six, needed only a helmet to personify to perfection a youthful god
Mars. Prince Oscar merely wore his naval mess-jacket. Herr Ross (the
Norwegian artist) was the head and spirit of the ball and directed
everything. He was dressed appropriately as a _pierrot_, with a wand in
his hand, and pirouetted about to his heart's content.

All was done on the most economical basis, as the club is entirely
composed of artists, who, consequently, are poor. The lines were drawn
apparently at the food, but in _skaals_ (toasts)--the thing dearest the
Scandinavian heart--they were extremely liberal and reckless. All six
of us were toasted to a crisp brown, and at each separate toast we
stood up and listened to the tale of our virtues.

The celebrated Ibsen honored this feast with his presence, and
especially honored the Chianti and Genzano wines, which were served
copiously, in _fiascos_. When you see Ibsen, with his lion face and
tangle of hair, for the first time, you are fascinated by him, knowing
what a genius he is, but when you talk with him, and feel his piercing,
critical eyes looking at y