she shouted" Gaae! Flue! Reise!-Go it! Fly! Travel!" Faster and still faster we flew down the frightful hill. The pony caught the infection of enthusiasm, and now broke into a frantic run. "Faster! faster!" shrieked the wild girl in a paroxysm of delight.

By this time I was positively beside myself with terror. No longer able to distinguish the flying trees, waterfalls, and precipices, I closed my eyes and gasped for breath. Soon the fearful bouncing of the cariole aroused me to something like consciousness. We had struck a rock, and were now spinning along the edge of a mighty abyss on one wheel, the other performing a sort of balance in the air. I looked ahead, but there was neither shape nor meaning in the country. It was all a wild chaos of destructive elements-trees, precipices, red stockings, and whirling petticoats-toward which we were madly flying.

once.

But there is an end to all troubles upon earth. With thanks to a kind Providence, I at length caught sight of a long stretch of level road. Although there were several short turns to be made before reaching it, there was still hope that it might be gained without any more serious disaster than the breaking of a leg or an arm. Upon such a casualty as that I should have compromised at If this extraordinary creature behind would only stop whistling and cracking the whip, and driving the little pony crazy by her inspiring cries, I might yet succeed in steering safely into the level road; but the nearer we approached the bottom of the hill the wilder she became now actually dancing on the little board with delight, now leaning over to get a cut at the pony's tail with the whip, while she whistled more fiercely than ever, and cried out, from time to time, "Flue! Gaae! Reise!" Already the poor animal was reeking with sweat, and it was a miracle he did not drop dead on the road.

However, by great good fortune, aided by my skill in driving, we made the turns, and in a few minutes more

were safely jogging along the level road. Almost breathless, and quite bewildered, I instinctively turned round. to see what manner of wild being this girl behind was. If you believe me, she was leaning over my shoulder, shaking her sides laughing at me, her sparkling blue eyes now all ablaze with excitement, her cheeks glowing like peonies, her lips wide apart, displaying the most exquisite set of teeth I ever beheld, while her long golden tresses, bursting from the red handkerchief which served as a sort of crowning glory to her head, floated in wavy ringlets over her shoulders. Hermosa! it was enough to thaw an anchorite! She was certainly very prettythere was no doubt of that; full of life, overflowing with health and vitality, and delighted at the confusion and astonishment of the strange gentleman she had taken in charge.

Can any body tell me what it is that produces such a singular sensation when one looks over his shoulder and discovers the face of a pretty and innocent young girl within a few inches of his own, her beautiful eyes sparkling like a pair of stars, and shooting magic scintillations through and through him, body and soul, while her breath falls like a zephyr upon his cheek? Tell me, ye who deal in metaphysics, what is it? There is certainly a kind of charm in it, against which no mortal man is proof. Though naturally prejudiced against the female sex, and firmly convinced that we could get along in the world much better without them, I was not altogether insensible to beauty in an artistical point of view, otherwise I should never have been able to grace the pages of HARPER with the above likeness of this Norwegian sylph. After all, it must be admitted that they have a way about them which makes us feel overpowered and irresponsible in their presence. Doubtless this fair damsel was unconscious of the damage she was inflicting upon a wayworn and defenseless traveler. Her very innocence was itself her chiefest charm. Either she was the most innocent or the most designing of her sex. She

thought nothing of holding on to my shoulder, and talked as glibly and pleasantly, with her beaming face close to my ear, as if I had been her brother or her cousin, or possibly her uncle, though I did not exactly like to regard it in that point of view. What she was saying I could not conjecture, save by her roguish expression and her merry peals of laughter.

"Jeg kan ikke tale Norsk!-I can't speak Norwegian"—was all I could say, at which she laughed more joyously than ever, and rattled off a number of excellent jokes, no doubt at my helpless condition. Indeed, I strongly suspected, from a familiar word here and there, that she was making love to me out of mere sport, though she was guarded enough not to make any intelligible demonstration to that effect. At last I got out my vocabulary, and as we jogged quietly along the road, by catching a word now and then, and making her repeat what she said very slowly, got so far as to construct something of a conversation.

"What is your name, skën Jumfru?" I asked.

"Maria," was the answer.

"A pretty name; and Maria is a very pretty girl.” She tossed her head a little scornfully, as much as to say Maria was not to be fooled by flattery.

"What is your name?" said Maria, after a pause. "Mine? Oh, I have forgotten mine."

"Are you an Englishman ?"

"No."

"A Frenchman ?"

"No."

"A Dutchman ?"

"No-I am an American."

"I like Americans-I don't like Englishmen," said the

girl.

"Have you a lover ?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to be married to him?" "Yes, in about six months."

"I wish you joy." "Thank you!"

At this moment a carriage drawn by two horses hove in sight. It was an English traveling party-an old gentleman and two ladies, evidently his wife and daughter. As they drew near they seemed to be a little perplexed at the singular equipage before them-a small horse, nearly dead and lathered all over with foam; a cariole bespattered with mud; a dashing fine girl behind, with flaunting hair, a short petticoat, and a flaming pair of red stockings; myself in the body of the cariole, covered from head to foot with mire, my beard flying out in every direction, and my hair still standing on end from the effects of recent fright—a very singular spectacle to meet in the middle of a public highway, even in Norway. The road was very narrow at the point of meeting. It became necessary for one of the vehicles to pull up the side of the hill a little in order to allow room for the other to pass. Being the lighter party as well as under obligations of gallantry, I at once gave way. While endeavoring to make a passage, the old gentleman gruffly observed to the public generally,

"What an excessively bad road!" "Very!" said I.

"Beastly!" growled the Englishman. "Abominable!" said I.

“Oh, you are an Englishman?" said the elderly lady. "No, madam-an American," I answered, with great suavity.

"Oh, an American !" said the young lady, taking out her note-book; "dear me, how very interesting!" "From California," I added, with a smile of pride. "How very interesting!" exclaimed the young lady. "A great country," said I.

"Gray," observed the elderly lady, in an under tone, looking very hard at the girl, who was still standing on the little board at the back of the cariole, and who coolly and saucily surveyed the traveling party, "Gray, is that a Norwegian girl?"