122 TEN YEARS IN SWEDEN. 



lifting it to almost every one you meet in the street, your hat 

 seems rarely to be on your head, and as an old friend of mine 

 once observed, " Were it not for the weather, and symptoms 

 of baldness, I should certainly carry my hat under my arm or 

 leave it at home altogether." I never yet could fancy that 

 there was any real sincerity in all this outward politeness. 



One thing will strike the stranger on entering a country 

 house here, and that is the scrupulous cleanliness in which 

 the rooms are kept. Carpets are not much in use, which 

 surprises me, considering how much warmer they make the 

 rooms, but the floors are always beautifully clean, and no 

 wonder, for I never did see such women as these are for 

 scrubbing. They seem to be always at it. In fact, the 

 American sailor's creed would apply well to the Swedish 

 woman servant, 



" Six days shalt thou labour and do all that thou art able, 

 And on the seventh shalt thou holy-stone the deck, and scrape the cable." 



There is one 'curious fashion, however, here. You rarely 

 find any soap in the washing-stand even in gentlemen's 

 houses, and a man must of necessity carry his own soap with 

 him when travelling through the country, as surely as he 

 would his hair-brush. For a long time I never could solve 

 this enigma why soap alone should be denied you. It was 

 not, I felt certain, from stinginess, and it could not in every 

 instance arise from forgetfulness. At length I asked an old 

 friend what was the reason, and he told me that it was not 

 considered nice to use the same soap which another man had 

 used. Now, I think this was carrying his scruples rather 

 too far. 



Bear in mind one thing if you wish to stand well with your 

 kind hostess, and that is, never come into her room in snowy 

 weather with hob-nailed English shooting-boots on, for you 

 rarely see here a good scraper or mat at a door. I recollect 

 once makingthis mistake, and I shall never forget the agoniz- 

 ing glances which the lady of the house cast at the little 

 puddles of muddy water which dotted the boards, as the snow 

 melted from the soles of my iron -clad boots. I hardly ever felt 



