One day she saw the steward belabouring a piece of sailcloth, which was stretched on the deck under his feet, to receive a good sweeping from the ship’s broom.  The numerous spots of dirt and grease showed plainly that it was the table-cloth; and that same evening the table was bare.  The consequence was, that the teapot had no sooner been placed upon it than it began to slide; and nothing but the captain’s adroitness prevented the entire “bill of fare” from being poured into the laps of the guests.  It then became evident that

   A table-cloth all foul and stained
      Is better far than none at all!

The Hope was twenty days at sea, and for twelve days out of sight of land.  She was wind-driven to the westward, so that her passengers saw but few of the monsters of the Northern Seas.  They caught sight of the spout of a single whale in the distance; it rose in the air exactly like a fountain-jet, but the animal itself was too far off for its huge outlines to be discernible.  One shark had the gallantry to swim round them for a few minutes, affording them an opportunity of observing it closely.  It appeared to be from sixteen to eighteen feet in length.

* * * * *

The “unresting” traveller reached Copenhagen on the 19th of August, and on the very same day embarked again for Sweden and Norway.

Let us accompany her to Christiania.  This town and its suburbs, the fortress, the royal castle, the freemasons’ lodge, and other buildings, surmount the noble harbour in a stately semicircle; which, in its turn, is enclosed by meadows, and woods, and green hills.  As if loath to leave a scene so charming, the blue sea winds in among the fields and vales to some distance behind the town.

The best part of Christiania is, not unnaturally, the latest built, where the streets are broad and long, and the houses, both of brick and stone, substantial.  In the suburbs, most of the houses are of timber.  Some of the public edifices are architecturally conspicuous, particularly the new castle and the fortress, which are finely situated on a commanding elevation, and enjoy a prospect of great extent and splendid variety.

Madame Pfeiffer was much struck by the diverseness of the conveyances that dash through the pleasant, breezy streets of this picturesque city.  The most common, but the least convenient, are called carriols.  They consist of a very long, narrow, and uncovered box, strung between two enormously high wheels, and provided with a very small seat, into which the passenger must squeeze himself, with outstretched feet, and a leathern apron drawn over his legs; nor can he, nor dare he, move, from the moment he gets in until he gets out again.  A place behind is provided for the coachman, in case the occupant of the carriol is disinclined to drive; but as it is unpleasant to have the reins shaken about one’s head, and the whip constantly flourishing in one’s ears, the services of a driver are seldom in requisition.  Besides these unshapely vehicles, there are phaetons, droschkis, chariots, and similar light conveyances; but no covered carriages.