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We Travel.
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IT is a delightful spring: the birds warble,
but you do not understand their song? Well,
hear it in a free translation.
"Get on my back," says the stork, our
green island’s sacred bird, "and I will carry
thee over the Sound. Sweden also has fresh
and fragrant beech woods, green meadows and
corn-fields. In Scania, with the flowering
apple-trees behind the peasant’s house, you will
think that you are still in Denmark."
"Fly with me," says the swallow; "I fly
over Holland’s mountain ridge, where the
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