fresh water suitable for drinking in many of the islands, so that it has to be carried every day from a town. Now you come to Elfsborg, an abandoned and dismantled fort situated on an island rock in the channel. The church of Majorna looks down upon you from the top of a cliff. Then, after you pass the ship-building yard and factories, you arrive at the Harbour of Gothenburg, the fortress of the Göta.

The origin of all towns is interesting. How did Gothenburg come into existence? It dates back from the time of Gustavus Adolphus, who founded it in 1619. We are told that he came on a visit to this neighbourhood to decide upon the site of a new city. As he stood on the top of the Mountain Otterhällen, surrounded by his advisers and officers, a small bird, chased by an eagle, flew to the feet of the King for refuge. The King thought this was a message from heaven, and there and then decided that the new city should be built at the foot of the mountain. To keep the memory of the founder fresh, the inhabitants have erected a statue of King Gustavus Adolphus in one of the squares. It represents him with big boots, military cloak, hat with feathers, and finger pointing out the site of the city.

The steamer has arrived earlier than was expected. You cannot leave the ship, as your friends are coming for you. You need not remain on board because you cannot speak Swedish. Nearly every intelligent inhabitant of Gothenburg can converse fluently in English. Wait patiently for a little and the captain will allow you to telephone to your friends from the ship. Very many ships have the telephone. By the time the custom-house officer has examined and chalked your luggage, the telephone connection has been made. It saves one’s friends many a long and weary wait for the uncertain arrival of a steamer.

Thus you are introduced to one of the striking features of Swedish life. The telephone is universal. Every place of business, of course, has one, but also every private house, every farm, and even the little kiosks on the street can boast of a connection.

After landing, as you drive through the streets you are struck by the Dutch appearance of the city. Canals intersect the streets. This is because the first inhabitants were chiefly Dutch merchants, called into the country by the King.

The city makes a splendid impression on one, as the streets are well laid out and the houses well built.

How bright and fresh everything appears in the King’s Port Avenue or the Allée, lined, as they both are, with rows of spreading trees and stately buildings! These are the fashionable streets and favourite promenades, where can be seen the youth and beauty of Gothenburg.

The visitor must also see a large public park—Slottskögen—where the working-men, with their wives and children, listen to the music of the band. Then there are the Botanic Gardens, which are also a pleasure-resort.

You should not miss the market where you buy your fish alive. Near by is the fruit-market, where you see the old women behind their stalls of flowers, fruits, and vegetables. One wonders how they move, they are enveloped in so much clothing. There, too, can be seen the little boat with its load of firewood. Near by are tables laden with sausages and hams.

CHAPTER III
A SUMMER HOLIDAY AT MARSTRAND

I must now give you an idea how a holiday is spent at the seaside in Sweden. Early in the year the question is, Where shall we spend the summer? Three whole months of liberty and sunshine—this is what every boy and girl looks forward to in Sweden, as the public schools all close on the last days of May, or first days of June, and do not reopen till the first day of September.

This summer we decide to go to Marstrand, and I will try to give you an idea how a day is spent there. On a fine morning in the first week of June we board the pretty steamer St. Erik, and although we have come early, we find it already crowded with families hurrying off to the seaside, so great is the rush from town as soon as the schools are closed. We have to sit wedged in between beds and perambulators, so many and varied are the things it is necessary to take to a Swedish watering-place.

After the steamer has threaded its course for about two hours between the numerous rocks and islands, we suddenly get a glimpse of the tower of Marstrand’s fortress, dominating the whole island, and overlooking the stormy Kattegat, whose waves beat on its shores from all sides. Then we steam up through a very narrow passage, cut in the rocks years ago, to allow the gunboats of that day to retreat under the guns of the fortress.

Many a time, as a child, I used to watch with anxiety the progress of the steamer when in that narrow canal, as the boat almost touches the cliffs on either side, and it needs great skill to pilot her through safely.

Having passed through, we are in full view of Marstrand. What a glamour rests over that sunny island to many a holiday-seeker!

But as your eyes gaze upon it, you look in vain for any handsome buildings or hotels; what you see is a lot of nicely-built houses with red tiled roofs, all clustered closely together at the foot of the fortress, which is built on the highest hill of the island. A prominent feature is the white church with its square tower. The town was founded in 1220 by the Norwegian King Hakon Hakonson. During the sixteenth century it rose into importance as one of the best herring fisheries of the North, but in these days it depends almost entirely on the support of its summer visitors. We have now arrived at Marstrand quay, which is crowded with happy, chattering people, everyone eager to welcome some friend; or it may be they have just come down to watch the arrival of the steamer, this being one of the excitements of the island.

A SWEDISH SHEPHERDESS.

Anders Zorn.

How delicious and soft the air is, full of the briny smell of the sea! Excitement runs high amongst the young people, as they think of all the delights of a summer at Marstrand, which are chiefly summed up in the three words, bathing, sailing, and fishing. We soon get settled into our home for the summer, a large, airy villa, standing in a shady garden, not far from the battery, and having a fine view of the sea.

Our first fishing expedition is planned to take place the day after our arrival. We are wakened early in the morning, between five and six o’clock. With eagerness we jump out of bed, and as we mean business and not only pleasure, we don an old serge skirt, as we know we shall get many a soaking of salt water from the spray of the waves as well as from the dripping fish. After a hurried breakfast we rush down to the quay, where we find our faithful old skipper Anders in his large, comfortable sailing-boat, waiting for us.

We sail right out into the open sea, where we drop anchor, and now the sport begins. The fishing-lines are unwound, each line often having about six hooks. These we bait with mussels. When luck is good, one has not long to wait; we were soon all busy pulling up and letting down our lines again as fast as we could, often getting two whiting or plaice at a time.

What fun it is to feel the tug and pull of the fish, but after a couple of hours we are ready to return home, feeling almost giddy with the strong air and the rocking of the boat; but we have enjoyed the