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upon that land that has been described, and crossed and recrossed, and camped, and touristed, and knapsacked ad infinitum.
I have but one excuse to offer for this temerity. Having never read one line of the numerous works published about Norway, save and except Lloyd's Northern Sports, and that forty years ago, my views are original.
The three sketches of the "Kelpie" are the work of our dear old friend, Fred, alias Frederick Milbank, Esq., M.P., and are drawn from my description.
The fat boy and dog are the product of the genius of his talented daughter "Miss Halice" also done from my description. What a wonderful old gentleman he must be, that same
"SIXTY-ONE" IN NOKWAY.
I HAD done my London for the season, as far as a poor decrepit gentleman, very far advanced in years, can be said to do anything. I had taken leave of my kind, hospitable friends, and was sitting disconsolately at my club, with the prospect of returning that afternoon to my solitary home, with the sheer blank of four months' summer and autumn staring me in the face, in a regular hunting county in the south of England. It is all very well in the winter, when you do see the human face, and congregate somewhat with your friends in the shape of the non-indigenous bipeds that flock there then, attracted by the celebrity of its hounds—at all other times it is solitude among