lling curtain.

We steered nearly due north, making for Kexholm, formerly a frontier
Swedish town, at the mouth of the River Wuoxen. For four hours it was a
tantalizing struggle between mist and sunshine,--a fair blue sky
overhead, and a dense cloud sticking to the surface of the lake. The
western shore, though near at hand, was not visible; but our captain,
with his usual skill, came within a quarter of a mile of the channel
leading to the landing-place. The fog seemed to consolidate into the
outline of trees; hard land was gradually formed, as we approached; and
as the two river-shores finally inclosed us, the air cleared, and long,
wooded hills arose in the distance. Before us lay a single wharf, with
three wooden buildings leaning against a hill of sand.

"But where is Kexholm?"

"A verst inland," says the captain; "and I will give you just half an
hour to see it."

There were a score of peasants, with clumsy two-wheeled carts and shaggy
ponies at the landing. Into one of these we clambered, gave the word of
command, and were whirled off at a gallop. There may have been some
elasticity in the horse, but there certainly was none in the cart. It
was a perfect conductor, and the shock with which it passed over stones
and leaped ruts was instantly communicated to the _os sacrum_, passing
thence along the vertebrae, to discharge itself in the teeth. Our driver
was a sunburnt Finn, who was bent upon performing his share of the
contract, in order that he might afterwards with a better face demand a
ruble. On receiving just the half, however, he put it into his pocket,
without a word of remonstrance.

"_Suomi?_" I asked, calling up a Finnish word with an effort.

"_Suomi-lainen_" he answered, proudly enough, though the exact meaning
is, "I am a Swamplander."

Kexholm, which was founded in 1295, has attained since then a population
of several hundreds. Grass grows between the cobble-stones of its broad
streets, but the houses are altogether so bright, so clean, so
substantially comfortable, and the geraniums and roses peeping out
between snowy curtains in almost every window suggested such cozy
interiors, that I found myself quite attracted towards the plain little
town. "Here," said I to P., "is a nook which is really out of the world.
No need of a monastery, where you have such perfect seclusion, and the
indispensable solace of natural society to make it endurable." Pleasant
faces occasionally looked out, curiously