262 HOUSE, GARDEN, AND FIELD 



route. A life like this has much in common with what 

 I maintain to be the very poorest recreation that has yet 

 been hit upon watching a football match. To stand in 

 a wet field on a winter day, and see men play a match, is 

 an occupation that no man of any spirit could possibly 

 endure. Let us do something or other, exercise either our 

 brains or our muscles, and take our part in the fun. 



If any naturalist wishes to break away from the relaxing 

 and too commodious fjords, but does not know where to 

 go, I can put him in the way. An excellent alternative, 

 more practicable than others which I could name, is to 

 visit Kongsvold. Kongsvold is nothing more than a 

 post-house on the great north road leading from Christiania 

 to Trondhjem. There, in sight of the Snehaetta, he will 

 find hills, wild gorges, and such botany as it is likely he 

 has never enjoyed before. The first glance at Knudsho, a 

 hill close at hand, tells us that we are in a new country. 

 The rocks are of white quartz and black augite, the vegeta- 

 tion consists of patches of sulphur- yellow and a green so 

 dark that at a little distance it looks black. When you 

 come closer, you make out that the yellow indicates dense 

 growths of lichens, the so-called reindeer and Iceland 

 mosses, while the dark patches are clumps of dwarf willows, 

 dwarf birches, j uniper and Alpine bearberry . The delightful 

 labours of the mountain-side are sweetened by the simple 

 hospitality of the station, and by the friendly talk of 

 the botanists, mostly Swedes, who assemble there every 

 summer. I remember with special pleasure the conversation 

 and help of the aged botanist, C. J. Lindeberg, whose latest 

 visit to Kongsvold I happened to share. The difficulty 

 of language is the only one that embarrasses the English- 

 man. I have been reduced at times to bringing out the 

 Latin of my boyhood such Latin ! Who that has ever 

 rambled over the Dovrefjeld would consent to go back 

 to the coast-steamers and the stream of tourists which 

 flows along the fjords like water in pipes ! 



Many of us are too busy to spend our holidays abroad. 



