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MY FRIEND THE COOK.
27
of the great English lords of Norway, with a very
eligible interest in that snug little railway, and the
Miosen navigation.
The land hereabouts is the richest in Norway, and
the general aspect of the country very different from
what one might expect in the midst of the Scandinavian
mountains, lat. 61°, the same as the ice-bound coast of
Greenland.
I took a deck passage, and found among the natives
there assembled many who spoke English very well.
I had long gossips with several, but the most interesting
of all was that with the cook, a healthy energetic
maiden, who had quite captivated me during the day
by the business-like manner with which she did her
work in the little galley on deck. In the evening when
her work was done, as we talked together for a couple
of hours or so, she was overflowing with loving
reminiscences of an English family whom she had formerly
served; especially of her kind mistress: the tears rolled
down her round ruddy cheeks as she told me how her
mistress tended her with motherly care during a long
illness. Many ladies believe that servants are all
ungrateful ; these ladies would be wiser were they to
reflect on the fact that the compact with a domestic
involves obligations on both sides,—that gratitude is due
to a good servant as well as to a good mistress.
My friend the cook was eloquent on the identity of
English and Norwegian customs, telling me how
old-fashioned people in Norway burn the Yule log at Yule
time just as old-fashioned folks in England do, and how
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