MORE FROM OUR YOTTING YORICK.
STOCKHOLM approached by lovely river (that is, we approached Stockholm by lovely river), with banks and hills covered with pine and birch trees, and studded with villas, where the Stockholm people live away from the town. "Studded" is a good word, but phrase sounds too much like "studied with SASS," as so many of our best artists did. Lovely for boating. Why don't the Swedes row? They don't. Lots of islands, and everybody as jolly as sand-boys, especially on Sanday. By the way, what's a "sand-boy"? Why toujours jolly?
Stockholm a stunning place, all built round a huge palace, copy of the Pitti Palace in Florence. Lifts to take the people up-hill, and a circular tramway all round the town for one penny. Lots of soldiers in uniforms like Prussians or Russians, whichever you like. Such swagger policemen, all tall and handsome, with beautiful helmets and lovely coats. What would an English cook say to them?
Cathedral with tombs of GUSTAVUS VASA, GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS, and BERNADOTTE. What was BERNADOTTE doing here? Didn't like to ask. Piled up with kettledrums and flags taken from the Russians. I noticed in Russia their churches were equally piled up with drums and flags taken from the Swedes. Exchange is no robbery.
Lunch. First view of the Swedish snacks before lunch and dinner. A side-table with caviare Lax, cut reindeer tongue, sausages, brown bread, prawns, kippered herrings, radishes, sardines, crawfish, cheeses. Should spell it "Lax and Snax." Three silver tubs of spirit—Pommerans, Renadt, and Kummin—tried 'em all. All good. "We had a good time—Kummin." The Kummin was goin',—rather. Ceiling of restaurant all mirrors—self keeping an eye on self.
National Museum. Splendid collection. Stone, bronze, and iron periods. Poor pictures. No end of palaces to see, till one is sick of 'em.
Swedes have a poet, BELLMAN, evidently who wrote Bacchanalian songs. They have a national holiday on July the 26th, and go to Fête in a Wood, where bronze head of BELLMAN is, cover it with garlands and roses, and sing and have a good time before it, just like an old Greek offering to Bacchus. I saw it. And in the evening a fête where they carry a child got up as Bacchus, and seated on a barrel with a wine-cup. A regular jolly drinking procession. They have a wonderful open air restaurant called The Hasselbacken, where you dine in delightful little green arbours, and lots of Swedish girls about. Capital dinners, A 1 wine, and first-rate music with full band. No charge to go in; you pay before leaving, though. Very good waiting.
The Swedes are very polite, and take their hats off on the slightest provocation, and keep them off a long time, specially whilst talking to a lady. When talking to two ladies, of course they keep 'em off double the time.
Altogether a delightful place. But they all say you should come in the winter. Wish I could. FLOTSAM, Y.A.
P.S.—The Swedish girls are as a rule very handsome. Tall, with long legs. Men good-looking also.
I can't very well do myself; I can "do myself" remarkably well, but I mean I cannot sketch myself in a cut; but Mr. Punch, in cuts I have done, is far more expressive than I can make anyone else.
THE COMPLIMENTS OF THE SEASON (with Mr. Punch's kind regards).—The most Popular of Colonial Strikers—Our illustrious guests, the Australian Cricketers.