376 
LETTERS FROM HIGH LATITUDES. 
Hardrada is lying on his face, with the deadly arrow in 
his throat, never to see Nidaros again. Seven feet of 
English earth, and no more, has the strong arm and 
fiery spirit conquered. 
But enough of these gallant fellows; I must carry 
you off to a much pleasanter scene of action. After a 
very agreeable dinner with Mr. 1ST- , who has been 
most kind to us, we adjourned to the ball. The room was 
large and well lighted—plenty of pretty faces adorned 
it—the floor was smooth, and the scrape of the fiddles 
had a festive accent so extremely inspiriting, that I 
besought N-- to present me to one of the fair per¬ 
sonages whose tiny feet were already tapping the floor 
with impatience at their own inactivity. 
I was led up in due form to a very pretty lady, 
and heard my own name, followed by a singular sound 
purporting to be that of my charming partner, Madame 
Hghelghghagllaghem. For the pronunciation of this 
polysyllabic cognomen, I can only give you a few 
plain instructions; commence it with a slight cough, 
continue with a gurgling in the throat, and finish with 
the first convulsive movement of a sneeze, imparting to 
the whole operation a delicate nasal twang. If the result 
