SOME FALSTER ISLAND FARMS 155 



house is a charming dwelling. On its south wall 

 grew a really wonderful crop of tomatoes, which 

 showed me that the climate of Falster must be sunny 

 and genial. The furniture within was extremely good 

 and solid, whilst the pictures hung upon the walls, 

 such as an engraving of Millet's " Angelus," indicated 

 the refined taste of the owner. Also on a shelf 

 stood the silver cups won by Mr. Larsen's horses. 



Whilst we were regaling ourselves with white 

 port, a favourite wine in Denmark, which was 

 most welcome to one of the party who was still 

 suffering from the heat and smell of the sugar 

 factory which we had visited on the previous day, 

 Mr. Larsen talked to me of the local farming, which 

 he said paid extremely well. This statement was 

 fully borne out by the air of solid comfort which 

 pervaded all the farms I saw or visited in the district, 

 and especially by his own. 



Just outside Mr. Larsen's gate I caught sight of 

 an extraordinary-looking person. His feet were bare ; 

 he wore a tight-fitting jacket and trousers, held in 

 place by an ornamental belt, and a really beautiful 

 top hat that would not have disgraced Bond Street. 

 Moreover, round his shoulders was slung what ap- 

 peared to be a weapon of mediaeval warfare with a 

 mace head, and in his hand he held some instrument 

 of weird appearance. I asked who on earth he might 

 be, and learned that he was the village sweep in full 

 uniform. At my request he graciously consented to 

 be photographed. 



Bidding farewell to Mr. Larsen and the sweep 

 with the appropriate chimney-pot hat, I motored back 

 to Nykjobing past the reclaimed land, beyond which 

 lies the Baltic. On this part of the coast there is, 



