192 THROUGH THE FIELDS WITH LINNAEUS 



one, for Sweden. It is pretty on the crowded quay, 

 where the people, residents and visitors, throng to 

 watch the steamers come in, to see the black silk 

 headkerchiefs once more (one misses this grace in 

 Norway), and pleasant to get the rye-biscuit again, 

 though this liking is a matter of individual opinion. 

 A village bride and bridegroom, and a very pretty 

 bridesmaid, all adorned with lilacs and garlands of lily- 

 of-the-valley, came on board the steamer I was leaving 

 by (at the same time of year as Linnaeus travelled 

 here), and formed a centre of attraction. 



We steamed out, in the soft yellow sunset, beyond 

 the red-painted wooden hamlets, struggling for a foun- 

 dation on the slippery rock slopes; the legs of the 

 houses for most of them are built like tables half in 

 and half out of the water. Marstrand is fortified some- 

 what unnecessarily, as the rugged labyrinthine coast is 

 defence enough in itself; no foreign pilot would dare 

 approach it. Its mounted cannon are only used for 

 salutes. We seem to sail out into a wilderness of rock 

 and sea ; but no, here is another isolated village, and yet 

 another and another, all of red houses with tile roofs, 

 many of them built actually out on the smooth rocks, 

 or just poised on heaps of stones rudely piled. A 

 windmill yonder gives a sign of something to eat; 

 otherwise, between the villages, it would seem a marine 

 desert. The sea-birds are but few considering their 

 opportunities : are the Swedish fowl too honest to steal 

 the fish spread on the rocks to dry ? Small red houses of 



