62 
LETTERS FROM HIGH LATITUDES. 
nobbing with my two neighbours, it is not to be 
expected I should remember the bill of fare. 
With the peculiar manners used in Scandinavian 
skoal-drinking I was already well acquainted. In the 
nice conduct of a wine-glass I knew that I excelled, 
and having an hereditary horror of heel-taps, I pre¬ 
pared with a firm heart to respond to the friendly 
provocations of my host. I only wish you could have 
seen how his kind face beamed with approval when 
I chinked my first bumper against his, and having 
emptied it at a draught, turned it towards him bottom 
upwards, with the orthodox twist. Soon, however, things 
began to look more serious even than I had expected. 
I knew well that to refuse a toast, or to half empty your 
glass, was considered churlish. I had come determined 
to accept my host’s hospitality as cordially as it was 
offered. I was willing, at a pinch, to payer de ma 
personne; should he not be content with seeing me at 
his table, I was ready, if need were, to remain under it; 
but at the rate we were then going it seemed probable 
this consummation would take place before the second 
course: so, after having exchanged a dozen rounds of 
sherry and champagne with my two neighbours, I pre- 
