be found nowhere else.

The Nordlander, too, has a touch of Nature's caressing softness in his
character; when he can manage it, he is fond of living and dressing
well, and lodging comfortably; with regard to delicacies, he is a
thorough epicure. Cod's tongue, young ptarmigan, reindeer-marrow, salted
haddock, trout, salmon and all kinds of the best salt-water fish,
appropriately served with liver and roe, nourishing reindeer-meat and a
variety of game are, like the fresh-flavoured cloudberries, only
every-day dishes to him. And the Fin as well as the Nordland plebeian is
also childishly fond of all sweet things, and his "syrup and porridge"
are widely known.

Brought up in the midst of a nature so rich in contrasts and
possibilities, and amidst scenes of the utmost variety, from the wildest
grandeur to the tenderest beauty, charm and fascination, the Nordlander
is, as a rule, clever and bright, often indeed brilliant and
imaginative. Impressionable as he is, he yields easily to the impulse of
the moment. If there is sunshine in your face, there is sure to be
sunshine in his. But you must not be mistaken in him, and take his
good-nature for perfect simplicity--as is often done here in the south.
Deep in his soul there lurks a silent suspicion, unknown even to
himself, he is always like a watchful sea-fowl that dives at the flash
of the gun, and before the bullet has had time to strike the spot where
it just now lay on the water. He has been used from childhood to think
of the unexpected, the possibility of all possible things in Nature, as
a sword hanging over every peaceful, quiet hour, and he generally
carries this instinct with him in his intercourse with his
fellow-creatures. While you are talking to him, he may dive into his
mind like the sea-fowl, but you do not suspect it, and are not therefore
disconcerted. This introspection may occur while he has tears in his
eyes, and in moments when he is most deeply affected--it is his nature,
and he will always retain a dash of it, even when he has moved, with all
his belongings, from natural into civilised surroundings. He eludes you,
steals, with his imagination and his watchful suspicion, in, among, and
around your thoughts; indeed, if he is a really talented Nordlander--I
am too dull and disinterested to be able to do it--I believe that,
without your suspecting it, he can go, with his hands in his pockets,
right through your mind, in at your forehead, and out at the ba