The Argosy — page 157: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

142 Under Northern Skies. “He holdeth them all in the hollow of His hand, and calleth the stars by their names.” And if night came all too soon, so did the hour of final separation. The next morning, after breakfast, it was necessary to be on the wing. The horses came round, farewells were said, and we started once more for our splendid drive to the station. Mule after mile through overshadowing forests and endless solitudes. As a flash the visit had passed, and perhaps for that reason its impression was all the more vivid. It certainly left behind it a vision of calm and sylvan retreats, where life passes almost as it might have passed in primeval ages; far from the haunts of man, the rush and roar of towns, the disquieting elements of crowds, the unsatisfying illusions of society. An Arcadian existence, filled with delights, where nerves were braced, overstrained temperaments waxed serene, the heart grew light, happiness abounded, and care was only an essence and a name. Then came the station. Afar off was the train steaming up that was to bear one away from it all. But the station-master was not forthcoming, and tickets were not to be had—so primitive is life here. However, he was approaching in that very train, and ‘Tl. under- took to get a ticket whilst I settled down. This was an express train, and there would be rather less loitering at the stations than there had been yesterday. Yet we had time enough and to spare for all that was needed. A last good-bye, the whistle sounded, the train moved on. Away to the world again, whilst T. turned back to his happy Arcadian existence. Halmstad once more. And when, about four o’clock, I went down to watch the arrival of the boat from Gothenburg, whose face should I see on board but E.’s. Tired of his solitary life, he had taken steamer for Halmstad, and, in spite of the treacheries of the Cat- tegat, had arrived safe and sound. For six hours we explored together the unexciting, uninteresting town, listened to the band, studied the inhabitants. Nothing particularly original rewarded us ; no great eccentricities, or startling beauties, or anything far removed from the commonplace. At ten o’clock we were on board again, and the steamer started for Gothenburg. But the Cattegat, no longer in a good humour, had lashed itself into fury. The vessel pitched and tossed like a cork upon the waves. Everything not fastened went flying in all directions. It was a terrible night, and at eight o’clock the next morning we put into Gothenburg with feelings of rejoicing. For once we felt quite an affection for the old place, and looked upon Hauglund’s as a har- bour of refuge. Not long should we remain at anchor. This was Sunday, and on Monday morning at mid-day, having duly taken our berths and paid our passage, we bade a cheerful farewell to Gothenburg, and started up the Gotha Canal, en route for Stockholm. CORNIELOOOKS (EO)