42 A SPRING AND SUMMER IN LAPLAND. 



the old gentleman turned suddenly round, and to 

 my astonishment asked me how we swore in 

 English. As he was yery pressing I gave him a 

 specimen of "the nucleus of England's native elo- 

 quence. 5 ' He seemed to think it not half energetic 

 enough, and he then treated me also to a Swedish 

 oath almost as long and bitter as the oath of ex- 

 communication in Sterne's " Tristram Shandy." 

 After allowing me a minute or so to see what effect 

 it would have upon me, he triumphantly turned 

 round and observed, " There, that's grim, isn't it ? 

 You can't swear like that in England;" and trulyl 

 could have almost said with my Uncle Toby— " I 

 could scarce have found it in my heart to curse 

 the devil so." 



As we entered a little village about sundown 

 this evening, I was struck by seeing something 

 flaming red on the roadside in the distance before 

 us, and on coming up we overtook two pretty little 

 girls, dressed in full fig — pork*pie hats, and short 

 crimson cloaks ; much after the fashion, I should 

 suppose, of the two young ladies in Regent Street, 

 whose pugnacious father wrote to the Times a 

 short time back, denouncing vengeance on some 

 one or other unknown, who had insulted the young 

 ladies by staring at them. Much as such a costume 

 might have been out of place in Regent Street, it 

 seemed doubly so in these wilds, and, having no 



