are reading together for the approaching philologicum.

In the room stands a piano-forte, with a number of music-books;
upon the walls hang the portraits of Weyse and Beethoven, for our
young Baron is musical, nay a composer himself.

"See, here we have again this lovely, clinging mist!" said Wilhelm.
"Out of doors one can fairly taste it; at home it would be a real
plague to me, here it only Londonizes the city."

"I like it!" said Otto. "To me it is like an old acquaintance from
Vestervovov. It is as though the mist brought me greetings from the
sea and sand-hills."

"I should like to see the North Sea, but the devil might live
there! What town lies nearest to your grandfather's estate?"

"Lernvig," answered Otto. "If any one wish to see the North Sea
properly, they ought to go up as far as Thisted and Hjorring. I
have travelled there, have visited the family in Borglum-Kloster;
and, besides this, have made other small journeys. Never shall I
forget one evening; yes, it was a storm of which people in the
interior of the country can form no conception. I rode--I was then
a mere boy, and a very wild lad--with one of our men. When the
storm commenced we found ourselves among the sand-hills. Ah!
that you should have seen! The sand forms along the strand high
banks, which serve as dikes against the sea; these are overgrown
with sea-grass, but, if the storm bursts a single hole, the whole
is carried away. This spectacle we chanced to witness. It is a true
Arabian sand-storm, and the North Sea bellowed so that it might be