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my next neighbour if he were not going to Norway for the summer.
Why should he go to Norway ? was the reply.
O! was he not a Norwegian ?
If Frue --- was a Norwegian, was that a reason why he should go to Norway?
Did not men generally go with their wives ?
And if men generally go with their wives, was that a reason why he should go with Frue — ?
“Yes,” I cried getting impatient, “it is a reason that you should
with yours." At this moment a lady in a little round hat and feather claimed the spouse I had been giving to Frue —; and he, rising obediently up, triumphantly answered—“That is precisely what I am going to do,” adding as he went off with the happy and true wife—“I tell you that Frue is not
wife.” But he never told me who was, or who he was himself; though in the grand ball room I saw soon afterwards the real husband of Frue and found also that the man I had mistaken for him, was a lawyer of note to whom I had been presented some time before that night.
After supper the dancing went on more vigorously than ever. Great was the patience of the lookers on; among whom I enroll myself, and do, indeed, on all such occasions in Stockholm, take to myself some merit for that virtue. Great also were the bodily powers of the performers. Once, his Majesty, having left for a little moment the royal post of observation-for the King, Queen, and Queen Dowager sit on throne chairs, gazing at the dancers just as we do who are not on thrones -asked me if I did not find it une danse furieuse. And this being the question of a Sovereign, I of course gave the assenting answer of a subject.
This dancing is well suited to the superabundant animal powers of the fine young heir, the Crown Prince; but the delicate, refined looking Prince Gustaf joined little in such violent exercises.
The difference in these brothers was remarkable, and perhaps in mental as well as physical things, is pretty well illustrated by one of the lively anecdotes of their boyhood, told to me by that most prolific of story-tellers, my old friend Ofverstinnan E.
Prince Carl and Prince Gustaf, when little boys, were amusing themselves one day in the room with their mild and affectionate father, who
fine vase. locked up
cautioned the virtuous Crown Prince to beware of breaking a fine vase which he showed a propensity to demolish.
“If you break that vase, Carl,” said King Oscar, you shall
into arrest for the day.” On went the frolicsome boy, and down came the
Carl was marched off under arrest, and
in the prison chamber of the Palace. Soon after came the gentle Gustaf lamenting to its door.
“Carl, my brother,” said he through the keyhole, “what can I do for you? Shall I go
and beg papa to let you come out? or shall I beg him to let me come in and stay with you ?”
" It is useless to ask him to let me out, my little Gustaf,” said Carl in reply. “Papa has ordered me into arrest for the day, and I am to be alone too. But I can tell you how to get in here, if you really wish to bear me company, my good little brother."
“Yes, yes, dear brother; tell me, Carl, what shall I do to get in ?”
“Run quickly and break the other vase," whispered Carl through the key-hole.
I thought of the story when I looked at the two brothers to-night.
The overflowing vigour, strength, and vivacity of the heir to the Swedish crown may adapt him better to the part he may yet be called to take in the history and service of his country; while the elegant aspect, the refined and cultivated taste, of the second brother appearto designate him atonce of gentle mind as well as birth, an artist and a prince.
King Oscar is as much unlike his father, Carl Johan, as the sons of great men usually are, and the two elder brothers are as dissimilar.
Prince Oscar, the young seaman of Sweden, is considered a great practical genius; and his talents in his profession are so highly esteemed by his country, that an old lady here told me that, during a late visit to our dockyards, he so astonished all the British admirals who examined him concerning nautical affairs, that they confessed their years and experience were completely baffled by the royal youth !
The Queen was a beautiful, and still is a graceful and gracious lady; the grand-daughter of poor Josephine could scarcely be otherwise. Her father, the once celebrated Eugene Beauharnois, having been the comrade in arms with Bernadotte, the fortunate fellow-soldiers sealed, as it were, the memories of their eventful lives in the union of
their children. She was betrothed to the then Crown Prince at the age of sixteen, and married at nineteen. She is a Roman Catholic, and a truly devout one-giving an example to her people in the observance of religion and its duties, which many of them would do well to follow. The marriage of the heir to the throne, however, with a Protestant Princess
gave general satisfaction to the country.
The Crown Princess was educated as a Calvinist in Holland, but on coming to Sweden embraced the Lutheran faith, which, in many essential points, seems almost as distinct from it as if Calvin and Luther were not the two great fathers of the same reformation.
But really the idea of getting away from a presentation, a supper and a ball-room—to Calvin, Luther, and the distinctions of faith propounded by the Reformers-appears to be a most uncommonly stupid flight of the imagination. Yet when one has been sitting for four or five hours looking on at dancing, the mind may fly anywhere by way of exercise; and a discussion itself appear to be a penance scarcely less severe.
However, this was only some words by the way, just to fill up my brief sketches of the per