Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Sidor ...
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
Below is the raw OCR text
from the above scanned image.
Do you see an error? Proofread the page now!
Här nedan syns maskintolkade texten från faksimilbilden ovan.
Ser du något fel? Korrekturläs sidan nu!
This page has never been proofread. / Denna sida har aldrig korrekturlästs.
284 SKETCHES.
mouth, eyes, in a word, every thing, was pointing strongly
upwards, and put upon this an expression of utter aston-
ishment, and you will, I hope, pardon me for smiling. The
unhappy youth walked along through the crowd. As he
walked on, all turned round to look at him, and then quietly
turned away again. He walked on the brink of destruc-
. tion, I fancied; he disappeared. The human stream closed
noisily in his wake; the dark-green current surged and
boiled through the arches of the bridge. It is here where
the salt and fresh waters meet, and struggle, and mingle.
Boats, full of people, were rowed backwards and forwards
on both sides of the bridge. Fishermen, in their small
canoes floating calmly on the river, were angling. Sea-
gulls were making their airy gyrations, screaming and
plunging. On the “Strém-parterre” the silver poplars
were waving their slender forms. Down below in the gar-
den pretty children ran about playing, guarded by watchful
mothers seated on the benches under the trees. Round
small tables, small parties were eating ices, laughing, and
chatting. Gentlemen smoked cigars and read newspapers.
“ Necken ” shot foaming and smoking through the clear
water, and laid to at the parterre, inviting you to a trip
to “ Djurgarden.”
Merry folks accepted the invitation, stepped on board,
and quickly the “ Necken” darted off with them across the
blue waters. Cares, gloomy looks and faces — where were
they? Not here.
Horses, carts, cabs, and riders, high and low, are un-
pleasant things in a town. Their riding and driving hither
and thither always prevent me walking across Gustavus
Adolphus Square quietly and collectedly, and therefore I
cannot tell you any thing about my thoughts at the base of
the statue of “the Great Gustaf Adolf;” not a word of
his generals, nor of the Royal Opera, nor for whoni it was
that the sentinel just now called the guard “ under arms!”
There reigns more quiet under the lime-trees in the
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
