72 SPORT. 



possessing me (foolish though I inwardly feel it to 

 be) that the machine won't weigh him. 



Forty-five anyhow he must be ! Yes, he is ! no, he 

 ain't ! Alas ! after a few oscillations it settles finally 

 at forty-three pounds, with which decision I must 

 rest content, and I am content. I give way to 

 senseless manifestations of extravagant joy, and even 

 Ole relaxes. Early as it is, it is not too early for 

 a Norwegian to drink spirits, and I serve him out 

 a stiff dram of whisky on the spot, which he tosses 

 down raw without winking, while I dilute mine from 

 the river, for this ceremony, on such occasions, must 

 never be neglected. *• Now, Ole, shoulder the prey 

 as you best can, and home to breakfast ; " for now, 

 behold, from behind the giant shoulder of the Horn 

 bursts forth the mighty sun himself! illuminating the 

 very depths of the river, sucking up the moisture 

 from the glittering grass, and drying the tears of 

 the blue bells and the dog violets, and calling into 

 life the myriads whose threescore years and ten are to 

 be compressed into the next twelve hours. Yet how 



