166 LINES IN PLEASANT PLACES 



Five days to reach your fishing ground, as I said 

 before, represent a fair price, in labour and time, 

 for, at the outside, ten clear fishing days. We leave 

 Hull at ten o'clock on Saturday night. After a 

 sweltering day the sky is wonderfully brilliant with 

 stars, the air undisturbed by even the faintest zephyr. 

 The minutest of the myriad lights that glow where there 

 are wharves and shipping are abnormally clear : and 

 the dingy docks, in that atmosphere, under the lamps 

 of the streets and houses, give somewhat Venetian 

 effects. Outside is a summer sea, and the whole pas- 

 sage, in a ship which, if not large, is wholesome and 

 comfortable, and officered by people who are never 

 weary of ministering to your wishes, is pleasant. 



On Monday morning at breakfast time you are pass- 

 ing through the three hundred and odd rocks, each 

 having its own name, bestudding the entrance to 

 Stavanger. Two hours' discharge of cargo gives the 

 opportunity of running ashore, laying in a stock of 

 Norwegian coins, and seeing the cathedral and the few 

 other sights of the place. In the afternoon, when the 

 Domino is fairly on her northern course, and when the 

 fiord landscapes should be a delight, we are in a gale, 

 with incessant rain. At eleven o'clock on Monday 

 night we quietly come alongside at the Bergen wharf- 

 age, but the rain keeps on. At eight on Tuesday 

 morning we are on board one of the smaller type of 

 fiord steamers, with three rod boxes amongst the lug- 

 gage, some battens piled on deck, and a moderate com- 

 plement of passengers. 



Here, then, is our introduction to famous Norway, 

 which seems not to be in too kindly a mood. After 

 the heat of London the gale blows very cold, and the 

 rain seems too effectually iced. The weather is, it seems, 

 phenomenally bad even for the time of year, and all 



