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24
GETTORF.
Chap. II.
Corona at Gettorf.
After a long interval of never-ending road a ponderous
spire appears in sight; we suddenly veer off to the left,
and are driven under the arched doorway of the
roadside inn into the
common remise. Here our
driver informs us the
horses are to be indulged
with the luxuries of rest,
brown bread, and water,
for the space of half an
hour; so we descend,—
a troublous awkward
descent, too, it is for
womankind, — wander
out through the clean
flourishing village of
Gettorf, with its gay
cottage gardens, and
wonder if people are
ever uncomfortable or
badly housed in
Holstein.
To while away the
time, we send for the
church key, expecting
to find little, may be
nothing therein, to repay
the trouble of a visit;
but on entering, from the
roof hangs suspended a
wooden corona, delightful to mediaeval eyes, from the
centre of which arises a shrine occupied by a carved
group of the Virgin and Child. A pulpit of richly
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