his star, whichever it may be, that the boat had not been hoisted on the
davits, but towing in the vessel's wake; or he might, many months ago,
have been a source of entertainment at the Court of Neptune.

If a drowned rat looks sleekly wretched, Jacko looked ten times worse
when taken out of the water. The brightness of his eye had fled,--his
tail, which curled usually like a sucking-pig's, hung now straight down
behind him, relaxed from its ringlet, like a piece of tarred rope,--and
his stomach, vying once with the symmetry of the greyhound's, was
distended and globular as a small barrel of oysters. Half a spoonful of
brandy was poured down his throat, and having been wrapped up in some
odd pieces of flannel, he was put in a soup-plate, and set down before
the fire. This was all that human art could do, and the rest was left to
the control of time, or Jacko's robust constitution.

At twelve o'clock we were off Fredricksvaern, the Norwegian Portsmouth,
which is a small town at the entrance of the Larvig Fiord. Here Jacko
came on deck buoyant as a ball, and with a coat made more glossy by the
chemical action of the salt water.

Looking towards Larvig, we saw, an unusual sight in this country, the
Union-jack flying on a little rock; and were puzzled for some time to
know whether it was a compliment that had reference to us. After a
tedious contention with _dead water_, light puffs of wind that came down
the gulleys on our starboard beam, and shifted to our bows, and then
veering right aft, jibed the main-sheet, we cast anchor about twenty
yards from the rock on whose summit the Union-jack waved.

The Consul sent on board to say, that his house was at our service, as
well as any other kindness he could show us. We understood afterwards,
that the Consul had mistaken the Iris for the Fairy schooner, belonging
to Sir Hyde Parker; and had hoisted the jack in compliment to his old
friend the baronet.

It was not possible for us to fish to-day; but P---- hired a carriole,
and drove about six miles into the country, to obtain leave from the
proprietors on the banks of the Larvig River, to fish on the following
morning. The task of gaining permission to fish for salmon in Norway is
sometimes a tedious one; for every man is his own landlord, and
possesses a few acres of land that he tills himself. All lands on the
banks make the portion of the river flowing by them, the property of the
landowner; and the angler may have to s