The Minneapolis journal. [volume], August 19, 1905, Page 13, Image 13

About The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939

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HRISTIANIA, Norway, July 25.
This is the evening of "Nor
way's golden age. Bjornson
and Ibsen and Grieg are still
among the living, but their cre
ative days are over and not many years
can elapse before death claims them
for hia own. With them will fade*
away the golden age of Norway, in
which her greatest creations in litera
ture and drama and music have chal
lenged the admiration of the world.
Around these three stars of the first
magnitude there have clustered a gal
axy of lesser lights who have aided in
making this creative Norwegian period
remarkable. But it is sadly admitted,
even here in Norway, that no new stars
are coming into view to give promise
of shining with the world-illuminating
radiance that marks the careers of these
throe men. "What a privilege it is,
then, for the Norwegians of today to
live neighbors to these threeIbsen of
Christians, Bjornson of Aulestad and
Grieg of Bergen I
Henrik Ibsen, the greatest living
dramatist, is passing away the. evening
of his life in a flat on Drammenvei, one
of the pnn3ita streets of Cnnstiania.
His mind is clouded and his strength is
gone. A stroke of paralysis has cast
a -blight upon his existence and only oc
casionally does his once regal myid re
sume its sway for short periods of clear
sightedness. He sees no one under any
circumstances and soon the clouds, that
Wow gather round him, will deepen into
final darkness. This merciless surgeon
of the human soul, this remorseless
pessimist who spoke the truth in its
most awful aspects, now sits amid the
terrors of a darkness that will never lift
on this earth. His message is said, his
work is done.
Contrast Between Ibsen and Bjornson.
What a contrast between Ibsen's last
days and those of the buoyant, hopeful,
optimistic Bjornson' in his country home
at Aulestad, amid the hills and valleys
he loves so well, surrrounded by his
numerous and loyal family, happy
the companionship of his dear old wife,
honored by the world, revered by tho
nation and loved by all who come with
in the magic circle of his beautiful per
sonality! Optimism and pessimism
tread different paths aWd bring their
followers to different ends. Ibsen has
told the world bitter truths and has told
them with concentrated bitterness. And
he has not been able to keep that bit
terness out of his own life. Compell
ing the admiration of the world by the
mastery of his genius, he has Never been
able to win the love of his fellow men.
Bjornson, toot is wedded to the truth.
But he sees it thru the rosy idealism
that envelops him like an aura. He has
faith in his fellow man and that faith
Illumines all his work.
The Trip to Aulestad.
It was with the most eager antici
pations that we set out upon our long
pilgrimage to Aulestad. Some hundred
and twenty-five miles from Norway's
capital the path layby rail to Lille
hammer, with a night's rest at a clean,
little country hotel, and then by a cal
eehe with one horse from the ''skyds-
station" over fourteen miles of won
derful roads to Aulestad. That drive
thru the beautiful valley of Gudbrands
dal, amid the blue hills and by the
smooth green waters, put us in the right
frame of mind, it seemed, for the ob
ject of our pilgrimage. And as our
postboy turned his pony into the side
road that led to the poet's haven, we
saw floating in the air from many staffs
the flags or many nations. You may be
sure the stars and stripes were among
themfor Bjornson loves America as
no other country save his own. And
there was the "clean flag" of Norway,
tooas they call the simple blue cross
on the red field since the jack denot
ing the union with Sweden was taken
off. Sweden, you know, has not yet
taken the union jack from her flag,
greatly tho the Norwegians have de
sired such action. But from another
staff there flew a clean'' Swedish flag,
such as was never seen across the
border.
Looks Like His Pictures.
The telephone two days before had
Se
'ven warning of our coming and when
servant took our cards, but a few
moments elapsed before the great Biorn
stjerne Bjornson himself appeared to
give us welcome. I was he, indeed
unmistakably the man who had re
created the literature of Norway and
li^f|-f^^
:::^^^p^f!l
^J|f^^^y
Saturday Evening^
w".wv ryjfmvwr? fr^^-^v^r^
STEAD'S TERRIFIC ONSLAUGHT
ON THE STAGE OF TODAY
He Has Caught the Ear of England by His Attack on Licen-
tious PlaysHe Advocates a National Theater
and Shaksperian Plays.
Correspondence New York Press.
London.In a recent interview W.
T. Stead says:
1 have now been visiting the thea
ters for nine months. At times I've
felt as if I were in hell, but not once
have I felt as if I were in heaven."
W. T. Stead is a man of impulses.
He goes as his will directs, without
ever stopping to weigh the conse
quences. He avows he is always seek
ing the truth. There is no convention
about Stead. Ho flings himself into
evory problem with the impetuosity
and enthusiasm of youth. He does not
care whose toes he tramples upon. He
is being struck with ideas every hour
of the day, and he seizes them and
works them out to his satisfaction
without fear or favor. He has caught
England by the ears by his terrific on
slaughts on the stage. He went into
the fight single-handed and without
gloves. It is almost impossible to
measure the man to get in sympathy
with his views and his acts we first
must see him as an irrepressible hustler,
as a man who wastes no time in pre
liminaries, but goes with fidgety ener
gy direct to the point at issue. Stead
is the one Englishman with the Amer
ican reporter's handiness of plunging
headlong into a story instead of sav
ing the vital paragraphs for the last
few lines.
"Yes, I thought I found myself in
hell, and I am not sure that the pure
air of God yet has blown all the con
tamination off me. A marvelous oppor
tunity unfolds itself before the thea
ter, but the theater is the most lamen
tably neglected institution I know of.
Mind you, I am not sparing myself a
scolding in this connection. I causes
me profound regret that I never stood
in a theater until the eve of life. What
an incongruity! Here I was mingling
in the activities of all the world, yet
without a child's knowledge of one
of the most important features in our
civilization.
"If only the stage would become -an
educator. To me it seems that is its
BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON.
From His Latest Photograph.
given it an individuality, a style and a
vjgor hitherto unknown. The finely
chiseled but strong features, framed in
the silver white of hair and beard,
with which we had become familiar in
tho photographs one sees of him in
every shop, were now smiling hos
pitably. But no mere photogiaph could
give one any notion of the merry eyes
that beamed on us two Americans with
such kindly humor.
Ah, it is the politic you come to
ask me of?" he said his quaint Eng
lish, as he led us into the parlor. He
was clad in a spotless suit of dove
colored serge, with trousers and long
skirted coat precisely creased, and thro
was later supplemented with a soft felt
hat of the cream color that Horace
Greeley was wont to wear.
And so we sat down and fell to talk
ing of the crisis, how it came about and
what would be its issue. Bjoruson is
the idealist, the reformer, and his poet's
imagination leads him into rosy dreams
of how things should be. For vears
he has been the preacher and the teach
er of the liberals. As he says himself,
he can plan reforms, but he has not the
practical genius to execute them, He
has set many reforms on foot in Nor
way that have come to full fruition un
der the management of less imaginative
but more practical men. He has preach
ed separation from Sweden along with
universal suffrage and a republican
form of government for years. And
now by fate's strange irony, when sepa
ration has at last been achieved, the
great reformer finds himself unable to
approve of the way in which it was ac
complished. His voice is one of the
very few in Norway that have been
raised in protest against the radical
measures of the Michelsen ministry and
the storthing.
Approves Result but Not Method.
"No," he said sadly, I cannot
quite approve of the manner of the
ruptuie, completely as I approve of its
obiect. It was not my program they
followed. It would have been better
to have waited until the next election
September, 1906, and then to have
had a vote of the people on the sepa
ration fT"om Sweden. So nearly unani
mous would that vote have been and
so imperative the mandate, that Swe
den would have been forced to sub
mit peaceably to the dissolution. The
king would never have dared oppose
the people's will thus expressed.
"But now there is such hate against
us in Sweden that I fear it will never
die out. I am a man of peace. I hate
hate. No one knows how long it will
take us to regain the friendship of that
noble people, the Swedes. We need
their friendship. These two peoples
should stand together. Yes, yes. I
should be so. But now" and Bjorn
son shook his head sadly.
A Greater Scandinavia.
"It puts off the day of the great
union of all Scandinavia go much far-
ther," he went on. "Destiny intends
that all the three Scandinavian coun
tries shall one day be united into one
great democracy. There are eleven
millions of us and we must stand to-
THE HOUSE AT AULESTAD.
The Unpretentious but Comfortable Sum mer Home of the BJornsons in Central
Norway.
golden mission. Instead of all this
flamboyant display, instead of these
frivolous tendencies, these paradin-er o
choruses foT the mere sake of stirring
the grosser senses, these vain protru
sions of stars, or the directing of the
stage as a commercial asset, give me a
theater intellectual, morally sound, fit
for any one to put his foot in without
dread of fleshly corruption.
"To be candid, I am nothing more or
less than' a tyro sitting .-judgment,
but I have this advantage, that I ap
proach the subject with fresh ideas. 1
am not grounded in prejudices in any
direction, formed thru lifelong ac
quaintance with plays and players.
Now, here is the first big thought that
struck me. The newspaper is the great
is the realtheater of this genera
tion. Our editors are our theatrical
managers and sometimes, as in the case
of myself, they fill the double role of
actor-manager. The public was with
out a press when Shakspere lived. Be
fore the sixteen century ran* to an end
there were 200 licensed playhouses
London, and then the city had a popu
lation only of about 180,OuO. Against
this we find that London today has
around 4,500,000 inhabitants, while
there are only fifty theaters and music
halls, or one place of amusement for
every 90,000 persons, against one for
every 900 in the time of Elizabeth.
"What we want in England and
America is a theater that will not serve
merely as a means of trifling away idle
hours, but of elevating us in our spare
moments. I insist it is possible to find
improvements for ourselves in our en
tertainments. I cannot do other than
emphasize again' that thought of the
theater becoming an educator. I seems
to me at times that this whole problem
of tho stage, no matter how it may be
threshed out, always inevitably tends
back to the same issue of its being a
great silent teacher.
"Hree now I come to one of the
points which I, as a tyro, am most anx
ious to make. Until the theater places
itself upon the same footing as the
WMM
church it cannot fulfill its true mission
in the world. That's it we must have
the men who frequent theaters taking
the same personal interest in them as
they do in their churches. Blame me
as a non-conformist for this attitude,
but cast aside your petty fancies, your
half-thought-out prejudices, and I am
sure you will come to my way of think
ing. The fault with playgoers as I see
them is that they are stage-hardened.
They do not seem to be able to stand
back and look at the stage as I, the
tyro, the novice with his mind all open
for impressions, am enabled to do. Some
how or other we must get rid of the
vast multitude of simply pleasure-seek
ing theatei goers, and save the stage for
those elect who love it for its abound
ing inherent beauty, for the power for
good which is in it, for the direct and
at the samp time subtle appeal it makes
to all the public.
"Where are we now?down in the
black pit where dances that infernal
doll of Mr. Pmero, whom I have been
told is the greatest living English
dramatist. I was when I went to see
Mr. Pinero's 'The Wife without a
Smile' that I caught a glimpse of the
deepest, blackest depths. My heart
sank within me when later I pondered
the pl?v in silent communion, and
thought that not only I, but the whole
audience, had foolishly, wickedly
laughed at the insinuating capers of that
fiendish invention. What kind of a
theater is this that it indorses Mr. Pin
ero a.s its premier playwright when he
dares to perpetrate a destestable affair
like this doll, mocking the most sacred
relations of husband and wife. Am I
to understand that Mr. Pinero stands
as the symbol of all that is great and en
viable in the way of plavwriting in the
English-speaking world? I hope not I
pray not. That play, that doll, nause
ated me, and you cannot imagine what
joy I felt when Mr. Pinero and this
imp of his were given short shrift in
America. That wabbling doll, that
licentious creation, never got further
than New York, and, best of all, during
its short sojourn there, not once was it
made to go thru the suggestive vibra
tions that in the end shocked thinking
persons here.
We want faith first, and then organ
ization. Just think of itthe Salvation
Army in this country raised $350,000 in
its week of self-denial. Why cannot we
do something like that for the theater?
"Give us a national theater in Eng
land and a national theater in the
United States. I like the movement
that is on foot in America for the build
ing of a really national theater. Keep
on with it that is a step in the right
direction. Raise edifices to Shakspere
the common heritage of the English
speaking world. -ShakspereI speak
the name with veneration. I am thank
ful that I have lived to see his plays
THE MINNEAPOLIS JOURNAL.1
A DAY WITH BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON
THE "GRAND OLD MAN" OF NORWAY
By W. B. CHAMBERLAIN, Managing Editor of The Journal Copyright, 1905.
gether. Norway is intended by destiny
to be the link between Sweden ana
Denmark. Our language, our literature
and our history unite us with Den
mark, whose people sympathize with
us always in our union troubles. On
the other hand, we are neighbors to the
Swedes and have been bound in a union
with thorn for nearly a century. So
you see, Norway can bring them, to-
een
etherif only the Swedes had not
so hurt in their feelings. You
know my great dream is a union of all
the Teutonic nationsAmerica, Eng
land, Germany, Scandinavia and Hol
landin a federation that shall guard
tho peace of the world. How grand
that would bel
"But now that the act of June 7 has
been done, we are all united for the
new order of things. Yes, Norway is
now one man. There are no differences
botween usof that you may be sure.
We are by light entitled to be free
and independent, and we will never
give up our sovereignty, never. You
cannot blame us for that. We do not
want to fight, and we ^cannot believe
that Sweden will be so foolish as to
make us fight. Yet if we must, we
shall, and Norway, now as ever, will
prove unconquerable."
"And is it to be a republic or a
monarchy?" I asked.
Bjornson Is a Republican.
"Ah, there is the trouble. I am a
republicanves, always a republican.
If we had waited and broken the union
peaceably by a plebiscitum, then we
might have had a republic with no one
to deny us. But now, I fear, we must
have a monarchy. We must conciliate
Sweden by taking a Ber^iadotte for our
kingif Sweden will be wise enough
to consent. We must gain our place
in the council of nations by having a
kingdom. Perhaps Oscar will let us
have his son Eugenethat would please
the artists and the poets. Eugene is
a fine man, an intellectual man. He
has a fine ingenium. Perhaps he would
be the best. But I think we shall have
Carl, for Carl would bring with him
Ingeborg of Denmarkand thus we
should have Sweden and Denmark in
Norway. That would be good, you see,
and it would help the union along. But
some day we shall have a republic in
Norway."
And what of King Oscar?''
"He is a very good man, very wise
and very just. It ~was not always so,
but since his serious illness of a few
vears ago he seems to have been entire
ly made over. The queen, his wife, is
a beautiful character. Sh* is his con
science. She is alwavs for peace and
she is Norway's friend. We hope he
will be wise enough to give us a -prince
and to gain Sweden's permission to do
so. The Swedes have been quick to
take our action as an affront and thev
will be slow to recover from their an
ger. They have not taken the trouble
to inquire into the exact facts and they
have said many hard things about Nor
way in their newspapers. But Norway
has remained patient, calm and cool.
She has not retorted, in the hope that
eventually her acts would be rightly in
terpreted and her motives correctly un
derstood, The km should have come
to Norway and treated with our lead
ers as the king afe&OJbjaY. Instead, he
was unfair enoUg$^^^eiC|i^e his sanc
tion to the consular '15111 laid treated
with his ministers as if he were a Swede
and they were oreigners. That has al
ways been the troubleSweden has
wanted to look on Norway as a province
instead of an equal. The German kai
serf He will not help Sweden. He has
been advising Oscar to make permanent
peace with Norway."
Hospitality of Aulestad.
At last we rose to go, but the hospit
able poet would not hear of it. Our
tram did not pass Faaberg, the %earest
railway station, until afternoon, and we
must stay to dinner and meet his family
and see the place. His hospitable com
mands were given with such sincerity
that we had never a thought of dis
obeying. So he took us about the rooms,
showing us with evident pride his treas
uressouvenirs of the great personages
of the world, the painters, poets, states
men and others who had visited him.
The painting he took most pride in was
an intimate familv picture of himself
surrounded at table by his wife, his
sons and daughters bv birth and by
marriage, and by some artist friends.
State-fair crowds will be given bet
ter streetcar service this year than
ever before. I is stated today, at the
office of the company, that every ef
fort will be made to handle the crowds
even during the rush hours without
crowding or delay. At the new Snell
ing avenue works a temporary substa
tion will be in operation and a 3,000-
horsepower rotary transformer will dis
tribute additional power in the inter
urban district.
Last year the company completed
its state-fair yards, where cars could
be stored on sidetracks, but had some
trouble with its power. The heavy
strain, so far from the main stations
in Minneapolis and St. Paul was al
most more than the line could handle.
By the installation of the rotary at
Snelling and University avenues, where
the new shops are in process of erec
tion, this cause of delay and trouble
will be removed. The rotary will re
ceive power at high pressure from the
main station. In addition the compa
ny will have its Snelling avenue cross
town line in operation and the old in
terurban line will draw a part of the
traffic from the Como interurban.
Work on the new Midway plant is
being pushed rapidly. All sand taken
from the excavations for the nine large
buildings that are going in now is used
in the manufacture of concrete blocks
and sand bricks to be used in the walls
of the buildings. In this way the com
pany secures fine building material at
a slight expense by utilizing what
would ordinarily be waste.
performed. They have been a wonder
ful revelation to me. I thought I knew
his plays, but I didn't half know
them. I wonder if I know them yet.
You cannot see them in their varied
beauty as a student.
See Stockwell SoonThat life insur-
anceThe Penn Mutual. Andrus bldg.
$17.75 to Denver and Return
Via the Minneapolis & St. Louis Bail
road. Tickets on sale August 30th to
September 4th, inclusive. Return limit
September 12th, with extension to Oc
tober 7th. Stopovers allowed and tick
ets good going one route and returning
another west of Omaha. Call on J. G.
Bickel, C. T. A., 424 Ni,collet avenue,
or G. A. E. headquarters, No. 407
Phoenix building. ft
A great "Nervine," "Dr. Laurit
zen's Malt Tonic." At druggists' or
delivered to house. Phone- N. W.,
East 440 Twia Cjty, 13399.
9*"T&"r
The Poet's Swimming Pool.
The abounding hospitality of Bjorn
son soon led him to ask me if I would
not like a bath' Nothing loath, I con
sented and he led me down a woodland
path to what he triumphantly called
"the finest bath in the world." It
was a crystal pool formed by damming
a strenuous little broolc that tumbles
down the hill on his* farm. It is shaded
by trees and a bathhouse stands con
veniently near, while a small wooden
flume brings down a thunderous shower
bath on a platform. Whew, but that
water was cold' It makes me shiver
to think of it. And the shower pounded
my back till it was red. But it was
a most refreshing bath'I had in the
poet's pool'
With boyish impatience Bjornson
waited for dinner to be announced. I
am so hungry," he said naively, and
went out to see what the prospects
WWMWHlUMtlHHHMmMMWiltWtmmwt
EXHIBITION
BARN
August
CHARACTERISTIC PICTURE O MR. AND MRS. BJORNSON.
Tt was a charming picture of domestic
ity, which good cheer and love
seemed to radiate from the face of the
poet and to shine by reflection in all
the faces about him?
There were many other sketches
signed by famous names, presented to
him on birthday anniversaries and these
hung in his workshop, a bright, sunny
room overlooking the valley with the
hills beyond. He showed us, too, the
heavv gold Nobel medal presented to
him for his achievements in literature.
The Bjornson Home.
The Bjornson home is an old peas
ant's house which has been made over
into a large and comfortable structure,
where the family parties in which he
delights may be held. Here he stavs in
summer, but the winters are too rigor
ous for his 73 years and so he spends
them with his wife in Italy. Eome, es
pecially, he loves. But Aulestad '9
redolent everywhere of his personality
it is Bjornson expressed in a home.
When we had seen and wondered at
his many treasures, he called "Caro-
line," the name by which he always
speaks to his wife, and soon we were
presented to the sweet-faced, silver
haired woman who has been the life
long companion of the poet, the woman
who has been of such inestimable serv
ice to him in all his trials and labors.
She is rather deaf and speaks only Ger
man and Norwegian, so converse' Was
not possible, but she smiled a welcome
and led us out onto the shaded veranda,
where we sat in contemplation of the
matchless panorama so characteiistic
ally Norwegian.
SPLENDID STREETCAR SERVICE FOR STATE FAIR THIS YEAR
STREET
i9, 1905. HISTORICAL
were. A moment," was the report,
and as the minutes sped he heaved a
sigh. 'Tis as I feared," he said,
that is a long moment."
At last we were seated about the
boardthe poet and his wife at the
head. At his side sat Mrs. Chamber
lain, whose vis-a-vis was Sigurd Ibsen,
son of Henrik Ibsen and husband of
Bjornson's.daughtera polished gentle
man and diplomat who unites the fami
lies of the two famous literary men.
His wife was not well and did not ap
pear. Erling Bjornson, the youngest
son, who runs the farm and who is com
ing to America next fall to read from
his father's works, had gone up to the
'saeter," or mountain pasture forty
nine miles away, and taken with him
his brother, Bjbrn Bjornson, who is a
famous actor and director of the Na
tional theater. At the table also were
Dr. Carl Anderson, a famous educator
of Chrretiania, and his wife, Miss Niel
sen, a friend of the family, and the two
tow-headed little girls of Erling.
A Real Norwegian Dinner.
It was a typical Norwegian dinner
the opening fish course followed by
HENRIK IBSEN,
The Great Norwegian Dramatist,
in the Evening of Life.
p*
JU
I
SOOIETV.
pK*W-w.
Now
MBHIWIMIIIMIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIiiiinnmMMMHiM,^,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,^,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,^^,,^^
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si
9
13
melon, and the roast meat course fol
lowed by preserved cranbe-.ries. For
dessert there were the delicious wild
strawberries which grow so abundantly
here, served in whipped cream with
sugar. A modest claret was served, anT
it we drank each other's healths,"
saying "skaal" and smiling across at
each other in true Norwegian style.
Raising his glass to us Herr Bjornson
said: "Here is to your mission may"
you do us of Norway much good and
always tell the truth in your great
newspaper!" In return we drank to
the health of our host and hostess and
hoped for them at least a hundred more
years of life in which to bless Norway
and the world with their good works.
As we ate the fish, cooked as only in
Norway they know how, Mrs. Chamber-1
lam asked our host if he did not think
it a great mistake that fish were made
with bones. He laughed aloud at ti^z,
odd idea and said, with laughing prr*
affaias
speakin
ar
Godi""
Bjornson for Woman's Eights.
The conversation turned to woman's
activity in the world. Bjornson ear
nestly declared that women'should have*
complete and equal political privileges
with men.
"We need the good influence of
women in our politics," he said. "Not
alone in the home can woman exert
her blessed influence to best advantage.
I remember speaking to 2,000 women
Boston when I visited America in
1871, and it was a grand and inspiring
occasion to see them gathered together.
Women have done much for America in
the way of reforms. Abolition would
have been impossible without them.
There is still much for them to do. Our
women here are taking pattern after'
the American women with their clubs
and manifold activities. Here they can
vote on all school and municipal ques
tions and may hold office in those con
nections. Norwegian women are very
active in these matters and many mora
of them hold office than in America.
We shall one day give them all th
political rights men have."
Shy of Cameras.
Bjornson is as joyous and as unaf
fected as a boy. He never seems to
pose or to be eonscious that he is an
ob.-ject of sueh great interest to the
world. So many visitors have trained
their cameras on him that he shies at
the very mention of camera. We had
unintentionally left ours behind and
when this fact was mentioned with re
gret, he at once exclaimed with mock
earnestness in his broken English:
I love God that you have it not
here!"
About his own literary work it is al
most impossible to get him to talk. I
asked him to tell how he came to write
that patriotic poem beginning "Ja, vi
elsker dette landet" (Yes, we love this
lan'd). This has become the great na
tional hymn and is sung by Norwegians
on all sorts of occasions the world
round. Ho laughed Lappily and led us
to a quaint little oil painting of him
self as he looked when at the age of 21
he wrote that immortal poem. It was
his cousin Kikard Nordraak, who had
written the music for it, and he re
counted how his father, the good old
parson, had called the boy, who was
only 19f and said: "Here, see what
Bjornst]erne has written. Why is it
that you never do anything?' What
have you accomplished worth while?"
Thus spurred on, the lad sat down and
in one day composed the fine swinging
hymn to which the words are set. He
turned out a musical genius, but, unhap
pily, died young.
His Minneapolis Visit.
Bjornson recalled with pleasure his
visit to Minneapolis, thirty-four years
ago, and the enthusiastic reception
given*
him by his countrymen there and
listened with interest to some ac
count of the growth of the city and
state since that day. He is now too
old to make the ocean trip again, but
he has the most unbounded admiration
for the great republic and its people.
All too soon the hour for our depart
ure arrived and we drove away while
the grand old manboy an'd sage in one
bared his white locks to the breeze
and waved farewell to us with his
broad-brimmed hat.
Thus came to an end a wonderful day
the most memorable to us of all the
golden days in Scandinavia.
STREET
noonup
i*r