THE LAND. 265 



1 was fortunate enough to come to Norway in a friend's 

 yacht, and voyaged along the west coast from south to north. 



It is impossible to give any one an adequate idea of 

 what is meant by sailing among the islands off the coast 

 of Norway, or of the delights attendant on snm navi- 

 gation. If you would understand this thoroughly, yon 

 must experience it for yourself. Here is a brief sum- 

 mary of pleasures. 



Yachting without sea-sickness. Scenery ever changing, 

 always beautiful and wild beyond description. Landing 

 possible, desirable, frequent. Expectation ever on tiptoe. 

 Hope constant. Agreeable surprises perpetual. Tremen 

 dous astonishments numerous, and variety without end. 

 Could any one desire more ? 



The islands extend along the whole coast in myriads. 

 I presume that their actual number never has been, and 

 never can be, ascertained. Some are so huge that you 

 mistake them for the mainland. Others are so small that 

 you might take them for castles floating on the sea. And 

 on many of them most of them, perhaps you find 

 small houses quaint, gable-ended, wooden, and red-tile- 

 roofed in the midst of small patches of verdure, or, not 

 unfrequently, perched upon the naked rock. 



In some cases a small cottage may be seen unrelieved 

 by any blade of green, sticking in a crevice of the rock 

 like some miniature Noah's Ark, tnat had taken the 

 ground there and been forgotten whep the flood went 

 down. , 



You come or deck in the morning ; the snn is blazing 



