the morrow, we parted with our voluble informant.

Some bread and cheese, and Bass's stout, formed our supper, and
reconciled us to our dormitory; and, while we smoked our pipes at the
now opened window, we wandered back to old England, and talked of
friends and fair ones left behind.

It was near midnight. Descending from the hills, the smell of the
evening air, impregnated with the sweet odour of a thousand wild
flowers, refreshed us, jaded as we were by a long journey, and added
delight to the novelty of our situation. The lofty mountains, too, on
either hand, seemed, with their summits, to touch the stars; and, except
the roar of a cataract, no sound interrupted the silence, which, amidst
such vast natural creations, almost amounted to pain.

Notwithstanding my many antipathies, I went to bed, and slept soundly
till the next morning, having awaked but once during the night to throw
off my eider coverlet. The Norwegians hold the eider in great
estimation, and, invariably, whether it be in summer or winter, place it
on the bed of a stranger; but I would recommend those who travel in that
part of Europe, as we did, during the three summer months, to decline
this domestic attention. The eider appears very much like a feather
mattress, but is so light, that, when used as a coverlet, you can
scarcely feel the difference between its weight and that of an ordinary
linen sheet.

At six o'clock the following morning, we were up and on the banks of the
river, which flowed within sight of the cottage windows. Our old
Norwegian, punctual to his appointment, was walking by our sides in the
joint capacity of spectator and mentor. Captain P---- threw the first
fly, and continued throwing fly after fly, various as the tints of the
rainbow, but with the same result as the Norwegian had anticipated. I
soon became grieved at seeing the river well thrashed, and left P---- to
persevere in his sport, and R----, like Charon, standing bolt upright in
a punt, rod in hand, and tackle streaming in air, to be ferried about in
search of some quiet nook for his particular diversion. Besides, it was
now nine, and I felt interiorly that breakfast would be more pleasant
than loitering on the banks of a river, pinched exteriorly by the
eagerness of a N.E. wind; for the climate of Norway, in the early part
of summer, is influenced by the same fickleness as the climate of
England; and the wind, during the night, will visit the cardinal points
of th