lieutenant, and finally captain
of a frigate, the young man acquitted himself well, earning the
reputation of a capital officer, hardworking, careful, no martinet
towards his men, though by no means to be trifled with. In practical
seamanship, he excels any other prince of his age, and can command
any kind of naval craft from torpedo boat to battleship, and lead in
actual battle.

In forming their court, King Haakon and Queen Maud are gathering about
them the literary, artistic, and musical people of the realm, for they
are devoted to the companionship of gifted folk. The queen has herself
written plays under the pseudonym "Graham Irving," and the king paints
a little in aquarelles, and plays the piano almost too well to be
termed an amateur. Both are accomplished linguists, speaking with
discrimination French, German, Russian, English, Norwegian, Swedish,
and, naturally, Danish. There is no barrier of speech in their
intercourse with members of the diplomatic corps.

The little heir apparent, Alexander, rechristened Olaf, has already
done much toward ingratiating himself with the Norwegian people,
although but a half dozen years old. On the day when the royal couple
entered Christiania, the boy was but two and a half years old, but he
was very much interested in the decorations, and seemed to catch the
enthusiasm of the crowd, for he waved his little hand spontaneously.
In counting up the merits of the king, the promising little heir must
by no means be left out.

Trondhjem Cathedral, where all the kings and queens of Norway for
centuries have been crowned, and where the coronation of King
Haakon VII and Queen Maud occurred, stands on the site of what was
undoubtedly the first Christian church in the country--that erected by
Olaf Trygvason in 996. Within its confines bubbles the spring which
sprang from the tomb of that later Olaf who is the patron saint of
Norway, and somewhere under its walls lie moldering the bones of
medieval kings, four of whom accepted their consecration before the
altar where King Haakon received his crown. It is a thousand pities
that hammer and chisel should have exorcised the spirits which ought
to haunt this venerable shrine. It is as if England's Abbey had been
scrubbed and resurfaced, and new noses had been provided for all the
crumbling stone kings and queens. Trondhjem Cathedral has burned down
so many times, and the work of restoration has been so sweeping, that
it takes an active i