not a single trait of grace, not a particle of vivacity, and none of that quick characteristic retreating from an object which indicates an internal buoyancy, an elastic temperament, such as we see in a bird or fish....  There is something very agreeable in the varied lowing of cattle when heard in the distant country, and when replied to by a large herd, especially toward evening and amid echoes.  On the other hand, nothing is more unpleasant than to hear all at once, and just beside one, the bellowing of a bull, who thus authoritatively announces himself, as if nobody else had any right to utter a syllable in his presence.

A NEW UNDINE

From ‘The Book of the Rose’

Miss Rudenskoeld and her companion sat in one of the pews in the cheerful and beautiful church of Normalm, which is all that is left of the once famous cloister of St. Clara, and still bears the saint’s name.  The sermon was finished, and the strong full tones of the organ, called out by the skillful hands of an excellent organist, hovered like the voices of unseen angel choirs in the high vaults of the church, floated down to the listeners, and sank deep into their hearts.

Azouras did not speak a single word; neither did she sing, for she did not know a whole hymn through.  Nor did Miss Rudenskoeld sing, because it was not her custom to sing in church.  During the organ solo, however, Miss Rudenskoeld ventured to make some remarks about Dr. Asplund’s sermon which was so beautiful, and about the notices afterward which were so tiresome.  But when her neighbor did not answer, but sat looking ahead with large, almost motionless eyes, as people stare without looking at anything in particular, she changed her subject.

At one of the organ tones which finished a cadence, Azouras started, and blinked quickly with her eyelids, and a light sigh showed that she came back to herself and her friend, from her vague contemplative state of mind.  Something indescribable, very sad, shone in her eyes, and made them almost black; and with a childlike look at Miss Rudenskoeld she asked, “Tell me what that large painting over there represents.”

“The altar-piece?  Don’t you know?  The altar-piece in Clara is one of the most beautiful we possess.”

“What is going on there?” asked Azouras.

Miss Rudenskoeld gave her a side glance; she did not know that her neighbor in the pew was a girl without baptism, without Christianity, without the slightest knowledge of holy religion, a heathen—­and knew less than a heathen, for such a one has his teachings, although they are not Christian.  Miss Rudenskoeld thought the girl’s question came of a momentary forgetfulness, and answered, to remind her:—­

“Well, you see, it is one of the usual subjects, but unusually well painted, that is all.  High up among the other figures in the painting you will see the half-reclining figure of one that is dead—­see what an expression the painter has put into the face!—­That is the Saviour.”