was the best song which she knew how to sing to the traveller, in
order to win a little present from him.

The day was warm and beautiful, but the evening brought the cold
mist from the sea, which, however, in the interior of the country
loses something of its power.

"That is a kiss of welcome from my home," said Otto; "the death-kiss
of the mermaid! In Funen they call it the elf maiden."

Within the last few years a number of children have been sent from
the Orphan Asylum to the heath, in order that, instead of
Copenhagen rogues, they may become honest Jutland peasants. Otto
had a boy of this description for his coachman. The lad was very
contented, and yet Otto became low-spirited from his relation.
Recollections from his own life stirred within his breast. "Return
thanks to God," said he, and gave the lad a considerable present;
"on the heath thou hast shelter and a home; in Copenhagen, perhaps,
the sandy beach would have been thy nightly resting-place, hunger
and cold the gifts which the day would bring thee."

The nearer he approached the west, the more serious became his
frame of mind; it was as if the desolate scenery and cold sea-mist
entered his soul. The pictures of the gay country-seat at Funen
were supplanted by recollections of his home with his grandfather.
He became more and more low-spirited. It was only when a single
mile separated him from his home that the thought of surprising his
dear friends conquered his melancholy.

He caught sight of the red roof of the house, saw the willow