88 FOBEST BAMBLES. [Dec., 



FOBEST RAMBLES. 



In Denmark. 



,E are in Sealand. It is mid-October, and over all the noble 

 Beech forests of the northern land autumn is showering 

 her glories of russet and gold. On several mornings of late 

 there has been a keen frost in the open country, and these early 

 forerunners of winter, together with a strong gale from the Atlantic, 

 have caused the foliage to show unmistakable signs of the waning of 

 the year. But, except that the Limes are almost bare of leaves, the 

 gardens of the capital are still trim and bright with colour, the 

 Gladioli. Asters, Pentstemons, Geraniums and Phloxes being but 

 little past their prime. 



Leaving Copenhagen en route for the forest country, we set our 

 faces northwards, travelling along the coast-road towards the jutting 

 point of Helsingiir, known to Englishmen generally as Elsinore, and 

 falsely described in Campbell's famous poem as a ' steep,' it being a 

 low slope of land, partaking in no way whataver of the character of a 

 cliff. The Strand-vei is one of the most beautiful woodland roads to 

 be found in Northern Europe. It is true that it boasts of no hills 

 whence an extended view can be obtained, and that the landscape 

 spread out on the inland side has no background of mountain peaks, 

 and 5^et its charm cannot be gainsaid. It is a level road of some 

 seven miles in length, bordered on either hand by belts of timber — 

 long lines of Poplars, the foliage of their lower branches still of a 

 brilliant green, whilst that clothing the summits of their tall shafts is 

 of a rich yellow, so that the trees resemble gigantic specimens of the 

 * Picd-hot Pokers ' so prized by nurserymen ; — wide-spreading Spanish 

 Chestnuts, whose luxuriant foliage is already of a rich russet hue, and 

 whose falling fruit is giving ample occupation to the children of the 

 neighbouring cottages ; — great Beeches,with mighty butts, from which 

 at a height of some fifteen feet from the ground a dozen stout shafts 

 shoot upwards, whose myriad minor branches and twigs furnish an 

 umbrageous cloud of light green and golden leaves of which the pass- 

 ing zephyr is continually exacting tribute ; — gnarled Oaks, with 

 curiously tv/isted boughs plentifully covered with acorns ; — long 

 avenues of Limes, whose spreading branches, already but thinly 

 clothed with fading leaves, interlace overhead in a maze of glorious 

 colouring against the glowing blue of the sky ; — and here and there 

 splendid specimens of the Ash, which, forbearing ' to clothe herself 

 till all the woods are green,' is yet only too eager to lay aside her 

 beautiful raiment when the first frosts of autumn colour the 



