This city, therefore, is not a new one, but bombardment and conflagrations are responsible for its modern appearance. Fortunately, some of the handsome edifices raised during the reign of Christian IV. (1588-1648) still remain to adorn the city. This monarch was a great architect, sailor, warrior, and King, and is one of the most striking figures in Danish history. He was beloved by his people, and did much for his kingdom. The buildings planned and erected during this monarch's reign are worthy of our admiration. The beautiful Exchange, with its curious tower formed by four dragons standing on their heads, and entwining their tails into a dainty spire; Rosenborg Castle, with its delicate pinnacles; the famous "Runde Taarn" (Round Tower), up whose celebrated spiral causeway Peter the Great is said to have driven a carriage and pair, are amongst the most noteworthy. The originality in design of the spires and towers of Copenhagen is quite remarkable. Vor Frelsers Kirke, or Church of Our Saviour, has an outside staircase, running round the outside of its spire, which leads up to a figure of our Saviour, and from this height you get a fine view of the city. The tower of the fire-station, in which the fire-hose hangs at full length; the copper-sheathed clock and bell tower—the highest in Denmark—of the Town Hall; the Eiffel-like tower of the Zoo, are among the most singular. In all these towers there is a beautiful blending of copper and gold, which gives a distinctive and attractive character to the city. Other prominent features are the pretty fish-scale tiling, and the copper and bronze roofs of many of the buildings, with their "stepped" gables. Charming, too, are the city's many squares and public gardens, canals with many-masted ships making an unusual spectacle in the streets. But, after all, it is perhaps the innate gaiety of the Copenhagener which impresses you most. You feel, indeed, that these kindly Danes are a little too content for national development; but their light-hearted way of viewing life makes them very pleasant friends, and their hospitality is one of their chief characteristics. Every lady at the head of a Danish household is an excellent cook and manager, as well as being an agreeable and intelligent companion. The Copenhagener is a "flat" dweller, and the dining-room is the largest and most important room in every home. The Dane thinks much of his dinner, and dinner-parties are the principal form of entertainment. They joke about their appreciation of the good things of the table, and say, "a turkey is not a good table-bird, as it is a little too much for one Dane, but not enough for two!" A very pleasant side of Copenhagen life has sprung up from this appreciation, for the restaurants and cafés are numerous, and cater well for their customers. While the Dane eats he must have music, which, like the food, must be good; he is very critical, and a good judge of both. This gay café and restaurant life is one of the fascinations of Denmark's "too-large heart," as this pleasant capital is called by its people.

[CHAPTER II]

[MERRY COPENHAGEN—II]

The climate of Copenhagen is delightful in summer, but quite the reverse in winter. Andersen says "the north-east wind and the sunbeams fought over the 'infant Copenhagen,' consequently the wind and the 'mud-king' reign in winter, the sunbeams in summer, and the latter bring forgetfulness of winter's hardships." Certainly, when the summer comes, the sunshine reigns supreme, and makes Copenhagen bright and pleasant for its citizens. Then the many water-ways and canals, running up from the sea as they do into the heart of the city, make it delightfully refreshing on a hot day. Nyhavn, for instance, which opens out of the Kongen's Nytorv—the fashionable centre of the town—is one of the quaintest of water-streets. The cobbled way on either side of the water, the curious little shops with sailors' and ships' wares, old gabled houses, fishing and cargo boats with their forests of masts, the little puffing motor-boats plying to and fro—all serve to make a distinctive picture. On another canal-side the fish-market is held every morning. A Danish fish-market is not a bit like other fish-markets, for the Dane must buy his fish alive, and the canal makes this possible. The fishing-smacks line up the whole side of the quay; these have perforated wooden boat-shaped tanks dragging behind them containing the lively fish. The market-women sit on the quay, surrounded by wooden tubs, which are half-filled with water, containing the unfortunate fish. A trestle-table, on which the fish are killed and cleaned, completes the equipment of the fish-wives. The customers scrutinize the contents of the tub, choose a fish as best they can from the leaping, gasping multitude, and its fate is sealed. When the market-women require more fish, the perforated tank is raised from the canal, and the fish extracted with a landing-net and deposited in their tubs. Small fish only can be kept alive in tanks and tubs; the larger kinds, such as cod, are killed and sold in the ordinary way. This market is not at all a pleasant sight, so it is better to turn our backs on it, and pass on to the fragrant flower-market.

Here the famous Amager women expose their merchandise. This market square is a gay spectacle, for the Dane is fond of flowers, and the Amager wife knows how to display her bright blooms to advantage. These vendors are notable characters. They are the descendants of the Dutch gardeners brought over by Christian II. to grow fruit and vegetables for Copenhagen, and settled on the fertile island of Amager which abuts on the city. Every morning these Amager peasants may be seen driving their laden carts across the bridge which joins their island to the mainland. These genial, stout, but sometimes testy Amager wives have it all their own way in the market-place, and are clever in attracting and befooling a customer. So it has become a saying, if you look sceptical about what you are told, the "story-teller" will say, "Ask Amager mother!" which means, "Believe as much as you like." These women still wear their quaint costume: bulky petticoats, clean checked apron, shoulder-shawl, and poke-bonnets with white kerchief over them; and the merry twinkle of satisfaction in the old face when a good bargain has been completed against the customer's inclination is quite amusing. These interesting old characters are easily irritated, and this the little Copenhageners know full well. When stalls are being packed for departure, a naughty band of urchins will appear round the corner and call out:

"Amager mother, Amager mo'er,
Give us carrots from your store;
You are so stout and roundabout,
Please tell us if you find the door
Too small to let you through!"

The Amager wife's wrath is soon roused, and she is often foolish enough to try and move her bulky proportions somewhat quicker than usual in order to catch the boys. This of course she never manages to do, for they dart away in all directions. By this means the Amager woman gets a little much-needed exercise, the boys a great deal of amusement.