To return to our guests. We made an awning on what we call the lawn--size six feet by fourteen feet--out of two rugs and some birch poles, and lunched under that, as the sun was cruelly hot. There was a good deal of the ordinary picnic about the meal, as we have only four plates, cups, knives, &c., and had to eat fish out of the frying-pan, and drink beer out of a jam pot, and a condensed-milk tin with the top cut off and the sharp edge turned down. But all these drawbacks were met in the true picnic spirit, which 'de minimis non curat' so long as there is something to eat. Our two last bottles of beer were sacrificed, and it went to our hearts to have to pour away our beloved Skoggaggany soup when the cups were wanted for tea, for our visitors did not 'go for' the soup with the same alacrity that distinguishes us. Possibly it occurred to them that the middle of a blazing hot August day was not the most suitable time for highly seasoned, substantial, nearly boiling liquid to be poured down their throats.
Mr. and Mrs. Thomas and Miss A---- all spoke English well, but their friend young F---- could neither speak it nor understand it: however, he wished to be genial and polite, and replied 'Oh yase, tank you,' whenever any remark was made to him. In consequence of this amiable trait, John, who thought he could talk our language as well as the others, supplied him with beer, whisky and water, tea, soup, and marmalade all at the same time, to each of which articles when offered he had replied 'Oh yase, tank you.' This made a sad run on our limited supply of crockery.
Lunch ended, the Skipper volunteered as usual to take the party one by one for a cruise in his canoe. This with the ordinary English lady would be a matter of considerable risk, but all Norwegians--ladies as well as men--are accustomed to boats, and very nearly all of them can swim. But the trip was quite dangerous enough, for both the ladies insisted on kneeling in the right position and paddling themselves, and there was a good sea on, with a distant threatening storm. While Mrs. Thomas was pursuing her adventurous career, her husband danced on the bank after the manner of a hen with ducklings crying, 'Come back! come back! you go too far out!' but we grieve to record that she did not care a little bit, and was so delighted with the canoe that the Skipper had some difficulty in persuading her to return. May she live long to paddle that canoe, for it now belongs to her.