As Mr. Hoffman, as president of the Danish-American Park, took his place upon the speaker's platform, and began his address, welcoming the thousands of American visitors he saw before him, back to the Fatherland,—to the Park—their Park forever,—a great cheer arose, which was redoubled in volume as the Stars and Stripes were impressively hoisted over the beloved Dannebrog—and then from a thousand voices the Star Spangled Banner floated forth over the Danish hills.
There were complimentary speeches by both the American and Danish ministers, and by Crown Prince Christian. Then every one sang one of those beautiful old national songs the Danes love so well to sing in their woods, and Karl told Valdemar and Karen the story of the "Birth of Old Glory,"—as the United States flag is sometimes called.
In the evening, the whole forest seemed one vast fairy-land, with its myriad sparkling lights, strains of soft music, gay crowds and waving flags. Multitudes of lamps, of all colors and sizes, swung from the trees, throwing a romantic fairy-like light over the rustling beech-trees. Torches had been stuck wherever it had been possible to fasten them, and here and there a huge bon-fire flung its lurid glare over the whole scene, sending up great volumes of black smoke into the darkness overhead.
Three very tired and sleepy children were those whom Fru Ingemann put to bed that night, even before their usual time. The happiness of the long day—so full of new sights, surprises and excitement for Valdemar as well as Karl—was only marred by the leave-taking of Uncle Oscar for his long trip back to his home in far-away Chicago.
FOOTNOTES:
[21] "No, thank you. Nothing! nothing!"
[22] Monk's Mountain.
[23] Manufacturers and Sealers' Associations Building.