IN THE STATE OF DENMARK 171 



Marmor Church. A hght smoke clouded the harbour, 

 where lay the Danish men-of-war, and the Czar's 

 yacht, and the Princess of Wales' yacht, and all the 

 things that sightseers should have seen; hardly a 

 somid of the city came to us, hardly a footfall on the 

 terrace broke the quietness. Once, when looking 

 down from the heights of St. Cloud upon Paris, an 

 American girl broke the silence by saying, " Well, 

 I call it purfeckly heedjous." We had not the 

 pleasure of her acquaintance, but we respected her 

 courage. Cities were not intended to be looked at 

 from above. 



There was, at all events, the Zoo somewhere in 

 this very park. We wandered till the strange lunatic 

 voices of wild animals and birds directed us ; we paid 

 our forty ore, and entered a verdant solitude, with 

 the impossible Noah's Ark creatures pacing their 

 enclosures and begging for buns. By two things we 

 chiefly remember the Copenhagen Zoo — by the blessed 

 intervention of plate-glass between the monkeys and 

 the spectator, and by the first and last glimpse in 

 Denmark of the Great Dane. He was there behind 

 bars, a big and sleek and slate-coloured dog, a curiosity, 

 like other wild animals; he whom avc had believed 

 to be the guardian and plaything of every Danish 

 hearth. 



That night the great chocolate -coloured arch of 

 the Tivoli gate blazed above us, as we put down our 

 fivepence apiece and passed the turnstiles. The 

 music of different bands came through the dark, 

 coldly rustling branches of the trees, and innumerable 

 feet crunched the gravel. Here, wc had many times 

 been told, the King and the peasant met in equal 

 hilarity, but at the first glance neither was visible, 

 only old ladies in couples, small boys, family parties, 

 more old ladies. We asked the way to the band of 



