BREAKING UP CAMP: GIPSY POCKET AND LOADED DONKEY.
We soon received a small publication, by John Bradley, entitled, “Norway, its Fjords, Fjelds, and Fosses, and How to See Them for Fifteen Guineas:” with a tempting view of Norwegian scenery on the cover. Unfortunately we could not travel at so cheap a rate with our party; but we recommend the publication to intending tourists.
We now wrote to Mr. Bennett, 17, Store Strandgade, Christiania, who is a perfect oracle upon all matters pertaining to Norway, and gives ready aid to northern tourists, and he at once sent the maps we required. We afterwards received his newly revised Guide Book, which is indispensable to all Norwegian travellers.
A gipsy song was composed by us for our campaign,—a sort of souvenir, to be given here and there,—a memorial of our visit; we had it translated into Norwegian. It was a guitar song, with an engraved border, illustrative of gipsy life. The music was arranged by our friend, of whose regretted absence, we have already spoken. He had taken it from an air, which he once heard played, by an Italian boy, in the streets of London. It had since dwelt on his memory. The following is the music of the air, and the song follows, with a Norwegian translation, which is said, to be exceedingly good.
MUSIC OF GIPSIES’ NORWEGIAN SONG.
ZIGEUNERNES SANG TIL NORGE.
Hil dig du kjœre gamle Land!
Hvor Frihed og Munterhed boe,
Vi Zigeunere komme til din Strand
Forat vandre med dig i Ro.