had not found it easy to sleep in the train, we preferred an after dinner nap on a low stone wall or on the grass near by. We spent the night at Imatra, where are two fine waterfalls. The river, some fifteen or twenty yards wide, falls over a rocky bed with much noise and foam, and brings down hundreds of logs thrown into it for use in paper mills below. Often these logs stand on end and look like men struggling in the water. We passed Friday night on a steamer to Savonlinna, where is a very fine old ruined castle, now carefully preserved, from the towers of which one gets a splendid view of the lake and surrounding country. The lakes are full of islands of all sizes and covered with pines and a few silver birches intermingled with rocks. We stayed the week-end at Punkaharju—the only place, so far as I could find which did not have two distinct names, according as one heard it in Finnish or Swedish. It is a long narrow peninsular, with lakes on either side, of which one caught glimpses between the closely growing straight pines. An Esperantist doctor at a huge sanatorium for consumptives invited us all to coffee on Sunday afternoon, and showed us the institution, which seemed quite up-to-date. We returned to Helsingfors by train on Monday night, after having had a most delightful trip, the pleasure of which was enormously increased by the presence of several Finnish Esperantists, who came with us as guides and translators.

On Wednesday morning, August 23rd, we left Helsingfors in the “Birger Jarl,” for Stockholm. Several Esperantists came to see us off, and one of our Scottish friends photographed us as we leant over the side of the boat. All day long we passed innumerable islands, much like those we had seen in the lakes. We found some Dutch Esperantists on board and enjoyed a pleasant chat with them.

On landing at Stockholm next morning we were met by an English gentleman who took us in a taxi to the station for Saltsjöbaden, where we stayed for four days with Mr. Thulin, who had very kindly invited us to visit him in his beautiful villa. Mr. Thulin has been blind for many years, and devotes his time and energy to the collection of money for the higher education of the blind in Sweden. The “Bokfond,” which he founded some years ago, provides Braille text books of science and languages, and gives scholarships to promising blind students. Mr. and Mrs. Thulin and her sister, who lives with them and helps in the Braille work, are a charming family, and in their hospitable company we felt we were seeing Swedish life under ideal circumstances. Saltsjöbaden is a beautiful place on the coast of the Baltic, dotted with villas, where the chief inhabitants of Stockholm spend the summer months. On Monday, 28th, Mr. and Mrs. Thulin took us in a motor car to Osmo, which we reached about midday, after a pleasant drive through woods and open country. Mr. and Mrs. Thilander were waiting in their garden with the Swedish flag flying in our honour. Their little country house, like so many in Sweden, is painted red. It stands in a garden with grass and abundant fruit trees, and at the back is a wood, which gives it a picturesque appearance from the road. Osmo is near the port of Nynashamn. It is a large and straggling parish with a fine church dating from the fifteenth century, a railway station, electric light and telephone. The neighbourhood is very pretty; the ground is undulating, with woods, pastures, and a few corn fields.

And now came the most memorable and delightful part of our holiday, of which we had so far enjoyed every moment. I had seen the Thilanders before they were married, in Cambridge, in 1907, and I knew that Mr. Thilander was blind, somewhat of a cripple, and so deaf that no one but his wife could speak to him intelligibly through his speaking tube. Mrs. Thilander, too, is blind. Yet it is a revelation to be with them, for they are the most devoted, the kindliest and the merriest couple I have ever met. Their lives are spent in working for the blind; he editing magazines and