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his hospitable roof. Summoning the porter to his aid, they jointly
bore Laybold to his apartment, and laid him on the bed, which, in
spite of the low character of the house, was a model of Swedish
neatness. When Scott's turn came, he offered some resistance to the
good intentions of the publican; but his head was too thoroughly
muddled for successful opposition. Between the effects of sleep and
"finkel" he could not obtain a very clear idea of what was going on.
He was placed on another bed in the room with his shipmate. They were
both comfortably disposed on their clean couches, the pillows nicely
adjusted beneath their heads, and their bodies covered with blankets.

The two students were very tired as well as very tipsy, and their
slumbers were deep and heavy. It was after nine o'clock, though it was
still light in the chamber, and the young tars usually retired, when
not on watch, before this seemly hour. "Finkel" and fatigue did the
rest, and they slept, without rocking, till long after the early sun
broke into the windows of their apartment. We have seen the effect of
"finkel" upon one unaccustomed to the use of liquor, and upon boys of
fifteen or sixteen it could not but be entirely overpowering. It is a
dangerous fluid, and is taken by the Swedes at all times, being the
first thing at meals, and especially at the inevitable "snack" that
precedes a regular dinner. There is, doubtless, good ground for the
fear which has been expressed that the people of Sweden are in danger
of becoming "a nation of drunkards."

Scott was the first to open his eyes and come to his senses. He raised
himself in the bed, shook off the blanket, and then jumped out upon
the floor. He did not comprehend the situation, and was unable, in his
own words, to "figure up how he happened to be in that room."

"Laybold, ahoy!" shouted he, after he had examined the apartment, and
mentally confessed his inability to solve the problem. "Laybold! All
hands on deck!"

"What is the matter?" cried Laybold, springing up, only half awake.

"I'll be muzzled if I know what the matter is, but I believe that the
Norway god--what's his name?--Odin, came aboard the ship last night,
and turned her into a country tavern," replied Scott, going to the
window, and looking down into the lane below.

"How came we here?" asked Laybold, rubbing his eyes.

"That's more than I know; but I think we have been transplanted by the
spirits."

"The spirits?" gaped L