o'clock; then we had a sit-down supper for
those remaining. At five o'clock I found myself in my bed, tired out
but happy that everything had gone off so well.

The next day the Crown Prince of Sweden had arranged a tobogganing
party at Dyrsholm. We were a very gay company of twenty-four, meeting
at the station to take the little local train to Dyrsholm, and arriving
about twelve o'clock.

Here we found an excellent luncheon which his Royal Highness had
ordered, and which was, oh, so acceptable to us hungry mortals! On
excursions of this kind in this cold latitude one is obliged to be very
careful not to eat and especially not to drink too much, as there is
always danger of congestion.

It was a glorious day, the sun shining brilliantly in a clear sky, but
bitterly cold. The thermometer, I was told, was eighteen below zero; I
would have said thirty. We ladies were muffled up to our ears in fur,
our feet buried in _pomposhes_, which are long, india-rubber boots
lined with fur, and when we stood in the snow we had great shoes lined
with straw.

Everything about us was white; the trees, were loaded with icicles and
snow. The hill down which we toboganned was very steep, ending in a
long slide over the frozen lake. The snow on both sides of our path was
piled up four feet high at least. The fun of toboganning is the bunker.
The sudden rise gives you such an impetus, and on the other side you
get such a tremendous bump that generally one, if not _both_, of you
fall off head first in the snow.

One must be an adept to manage these sleds. The Crown Prince
toboganned, as he did everything else, to perfection. Of course, each
prince had his own sled and invited some lady to go with him. The lady
generally sits in front, with her legs stretched out, and holds on to
everything she can, her clothes in particular. The gentleman sits
behind, steering with his feet.

The Crown Prince went often alone, and then he would lie flat on his
stomach and steer with his long legs, as if he were sculling a boat. I
did not feel the least nervous when I went with him, but I confess I
did feel a little shy when I had to put my arms round his neck and
clutch him for dear life when we jumped the bunker. He preferred having
his companion behind him.

The _revers de la medaille_ was the toiling up the long slope in the
intense cold. I wondered if the pleasure was worth the toil, but if one
did not go down on the sleds one would have to stay