tion, having a delightful consciousness that nature had peculiarly adapted me for the vulgar enjoyments of life, and that every thing approaching the refinements of civilization was a great bore. It was doubtless this taint of the savage in my disposition that made me look with such horror upon neat rooms and civilized furniture, and fall back with such zest upon the primitive comforts of savage life. When I told the people of the house that I was all the way from California—that I had come expressly to see their country-there was no end to the interest and excitement. "Dear me!" they cried, "and you have traveled a long way! You must be very tired! And you must be very rich to travel so far! Ah Gotthow wonderful!" "Did you come all the way in a cariole?" inquired the simple-minded host. "No; I came part of the way by sea, in a great ship." "How won

derful!" "And what sort of horses had they in California?" I told some tough stories about the mustang horses, in which the landlord was profoundly interested, for I soon discovered that horses were his great hobby. Whatever we talked of, he invariably came back to horseflesh. His head was overrunning with horses. I praised his cariole horses, and he was enchanted. He gave me the pedigree of every horse in his stable, scarcely a word of which I understood, and then wound up by telling me he was considered the best judge of horses in all Norway. I did not think there was much in his appearance indicative of the shrewd horse-jockey, but was soon convinced of his shrewdness, for he informed me confidentially he had drawn the great prize at the last annual horse-fair at Christiania, and if I didn't believe it he would show it to me! I tried to make him understand that I had no doubt at all what he said was strictly true; but, not satisfied at this expression of faith in his word, he went to a big wooden chest in the corner and took out a bag of money, which he placed upon the middle of the table with a proud smile of triumph. "That," said he, "is the prize! A hundred and fifty silver dollars-sil

ver, mind you-all SILVER!" But perhaps I didn't be lieve it was a prize? Well, he would convince me of that. So he left the bag of money on the table and went

into a back room to get the certificate of the society, in which it was all duly written out, with his name in large letters, the paper being neatly framed in a carved frame,

the work of his own hands. There it was; I could read for myself! I tried to read it to oblige him, and as I blundered over the words he took it into his head that I was still incredulous. "Nai! nai!" said he, "you shall see the money! You shall count it for yourself!" In vain I strove to convince him that I was entirely satisfied on the subject that he must not go to so much trouble on my account. "Nai! nai!" cried the enthusiastic dealer in horse-flesh, "it is no trouble. You shall see the money WITH YOUR OWN EYES!" And forthwith he untied the string of the bag, and poured out the shining dollars in a pile on the middle of the table. His good wife stood by, professing to smile, but I suspected, from the watchful expression of her eye, that she did not feel quite at ease. The skydskaarl leaned over with a general expression of the most profound astonishment and admiration. "See!" cried the old man ; "this is the prize -every dollar of it. But you must count it—I'll help you-so!" As there was no getting over the task imposed upon me without hurting his feelings, I had to sit down and help to count the money-no very pleasant job for a hungry man. After summing up our respective piles, there appeared to be only a hundred and forty-nine dollars-just a dollar short. "Lieb Gott!" cried the man, "there must be a mistake! Let us count it again!" I felt that there was a necessity for counting it very carefully this time, for the landlady's eye was on me with a very searching expression. "Een, to, tre, five, fem, sex," and so on for nearly half an hour, when we summed up our counts again. This time it was only a hundred and forty-eight dollars-just two dollars short! The old man scratched his head and looked bewildered. The landlady moved about nervously, and stared very hard at me. It was getting to be rather an embarrassing affair. I blamed myself for being so foolishly drawn into it. Wishing to know if there really was a mistake, I begged my host to let me count it alone, which I did by making fifteen piles of ten dollars each, carefully count

ing every pile. It was all right; the whole amount was there, a hundred and fifty dollars. "All right!" said I, much relieved; "don't you see, every pile is exactly the same height!" "Ja! Ja!" said the man; "but I don't understand it. Here, wife, you and I must count it!" So the wife sat down, and they both began counting the money, varying every time they compared notes from two to ten dollars. Once they had it a hundred and sixty dollars. "The devil is in the money!" exclaimed the horse-dealer; "I'm certain I counted right." "And so am I!" said the woman; "I can not be mistaken. It is you who have made the mistake. You always were a stupid old fool about money!" This she said with some degree of asperity, for she was evidently displeased at the whole proceeding. "A fool, eh? A fool!" muttered the old man; "you do well to call me a fool before strangers!" "Ja, that's the way! I always told you so!" screamed the woman, in rising tones of anger; "you'll lose all your money yet!" "Lose it!" retorted the man; "don't you see I have made ten dollars by counting it to-night! There! count it yourself, and hold your peace, woman!" Here the wife, suppressing her wrath, made a careful and deliberate count, which resulted in the exact sum of a hundred and fifty dollars! I was much relieved; but by this time the old man, unable to bear the torrent of reproaches heaped upon him by his good wife for his stupidity, swore she must have made a mistake. He was sure he had counted a hundred and sixty; therefore he would count it again, all alone, which he proceeded to do, very slowly and cautiously. This time the result was a hundred and fifty-five dollars. "The devil's in it!" cried the astonished dealer; "there's some magic about it! I don't understand it. I must count it again!" The woman, however, being satisfied that it was all right, I now thought it best to return to my seat by the fire, where she soon began to busy herself preparing the supper, turning round now and then of course to let off a broadside at her old man. She took

occasion to inform me, during the progress of her culinary labors, that he was a very good sort of man, but was somewhat addicted to brandy-wine, of which he had partaken a little too freely on the present occasion. I must excuse him. She would send him to bed presently. And now, if I pleased, supper was ready.

I could not help thinking, as I lay in bed that night, how lucky it was for these simple-minded people that they lived in the interior of Norway. Even in California, where public and private integrity is the prevailing trait of the people, it would hardly be considered safe to pull out a bag of money at a wayside inn and show it to every passing stranger. I have known men there in high. public positions whom I would scarcely like to tempt in that way, especially if there was money enough in the bag to make robbery respectable.

All along the route during the next day the scenery was a continued feast of enjoyment. In looking back over it now, however, after the lapse of of several months, it would be difficult to recall any thing beyond its general features-pine-covered mountains, green valleys, dark rocky glens, foaming torrents of water, and groups of farm-houses by the wayside. At Bjerkager I reached the first of the "slow-stations;" that is to say, the established post-houses, where a margin of three hours is allowed for a change of horses. I had supposed that in a country, and on a public route, where during the summer there must be considerable travel, it would hardly be possible that so long a delay could take place; but in this I was mistaken. The slow-stations are emphatically slow; the keepers are slow, the horses are slow, the whole concern is slow. From Bjerkager to Garlid, and from Garlid to Hov, including all delays, a distance of three hours and a half ordinary time, it took me all day. No entreaties, no offers of extra compensation, no expressions of impatience produced the slightest effect. The people at these places were not to be hurried. Kind and good-natured as they were in appearance and ex