2 THROUGH THE FIELDS WITH LINNsEUS 



This is, indeed, being flung into medias res, as 

 Horace recommends ; for if any place can fairly be 

 defined as medias res, it is R&shult in SmSland. Even 

 in Sweden there is no getting at it without patience. 

 It is the kernel of everything ; leading apparently from 

 nowhere to nowhere, yet really on the main road to 

 every town of interest in Sweden. 



At 10 P.M. the late and lingeringly slow ' cargo ' 

 train stops at Liatorp station for ' Linnseus,' as every 

 one understands and is careful to inform us, and moon- 

 light on the islanded lake Mockeln, and the last gleams 

 of dying daylight, at the end of May, make it easy to 

 find the small hotel with its ' Rum for Resande.' 



We can see the mat of fresh spruce boughs laid, as 

 is customary, at the foot of its wooden threshold steps, 

 and above this we meet the welcoming smile of a plea- 

 sant-looking woman, who has been sitting in the porch 

 watching by the tender light, still tinting the sky 

 with daffodil and wild-rose colour, to see the train 

 come in. 



4 Yes, this is right for Linnseus. And so the 

 stranger ladies want to find out all about our Lin- 

 iiseus ? This is charming. Yes, here is Stenbrohult, 

 his early home; and yonder is ESshult, his birth- 

 place. To-morrow you can drive over and visit it. 

 It is about half a mile from here.' 



1 It is not worth while to drive that little step.' 



1 Half a Swedish mile ! ' 

 1 Rum is a room in Swedish; it is pronounced room, and not rum. 



