A U TUMNA L DEjVA/A RA'. 
53 
water and with trees, mostly beeches, whose leaves change to 
rippling gold in the autumn. These yellow beech-leaves are 
everywhere, and especially beautiful do they look reflected in 
the calm waters of the two lakes — Sorbidam and Pebling — 
which lie to the east of the city. They are massed, too, in all 
the glory of their feuille-morte colours as a back-ground to Lange 
Linie (the Long Line), the walk by the sea. There, in the 
autumn sunshine, lie hundreds of craft, amongst them most 
probably (signs of the annual Fredensborg gathering) the royal 
yacht “ Osborne ’’ and the Imperial Russian “ Polarstjern,” 
from which are borne the lively strains of a band. You linger 
awhile by the little lake of Gronningen, framed in those ubiqui- 
tous golden beeches, and the English church — St. Alban’s— with 
its gracefully tapering spire. Then, as you proceed in your 
quest for autumnal beauty, you will leave the quaint but treeless 
harbour quarter and wend your way to the fruit and vegetable 
market. Here is a perfect riot of colour. The high grey walls 
of the surrounding houses are the fittest background for the 
queer-shaped baskets of rosy apples and juicy golden pears, 
heaped up and running over, purple plums and dusky damsons, 
cool melons, colossal pumpkins (which would put Cinderella’s 
to shame), large white cabbages, which the Dane favoureth 
stuffed, and boughs of beech and spindle- tree, the latter thick 
strung with glowing scarlet, purple, orange-hearted berries. And 
the Amager women who preside over all these goodly things 
are most of them as fresh-looking as their wares. Small wonder 
in this, for these buxom saleswomen, with their checked kerchiefs 
tied over their poke bonnets, are descendants of sturdy Dutch 
settlers, who made their home on the adjacent flat little island 
of Amager nearly four centuries ago. When you can tear your- 
self away from this entrancing picture, the Boulevards must 
receive their meed of admiration, for the rows of evenly planted, 
autumn -tinted trees do much to enhance the beauty of the rich 
red walls of Rosenborg Castle. Autumn also lays her hand 
lovingly on the numerous parks and public gardens, where 
Nature is, on the whole, allow'ed to work her own sweet will, 
w'ith the least possible restraint, and consequently the most 
delightful results. But the crowning glory of autumnal Den- 
mark is to be found outside the city, and is reached with little 
trouble. The train takes you to Klampenborg in about twenty 
minutes, and then a few steps lead you into the Dyrchave (deer 
park), or fairyland in autumn, whichever you may choose to call 
it. It is idle to attempt to describe the dazzling beauty of those 
vast arcades of trees, glowing in a hundred hues from deep 
purple brown through shades of russet to rich amber and palest 
yellow streaked with green, whilst some in their wild desire to 
don their bravest attire ere winter come stand as if wrapped in 
scarlet and orange flames. The red deer roam in vast herds 
through the Dyrchave, which is broken at intervals by grassy 
glades or quiet tarns fringed with bullrushes. It is a veritable 
