Copenhagen. Otto was here for the first time; for the first time he
should see the park.

A summer's afternoon in Linken's Bad, near Dresden, bears a certain
resemblance to Charlottenlund, only that the Danish wood is larger;
that instead of the Elbe we have the Sound, which is here three
miles broad, and where often more than a hundred vessels, bearing
flags of all the European nations, glide past. A band of musicians
played airs out of "Preciosa;" the white tents glanced like snow or
swans through the green beech-trees. Here and there was a fire-place
raised of turf, over which people boiled and cooked, so that the
smoke rose up among the trees. Outside the wood, waiting in long
rows, were the peasants' vehicles, called "coffee-mills," completely
answering ho the couricolo of the Neapolitan and the coucou of the
Parisian, equally cheap, and overladen in the same manner with
passengers, therefore forming highly picturesque groups. This scene
has been humorously treated in a picture by Marstrand. Between fields
and meadows, the road leads pleasantly toward the park; the friends
pursued the foot-path.

"Shall I brush the gentlemen?" cried five or six boys, at the same
time pressing upon the friends as they approached the entrance to
the park. Without waiting for an answer, the boys commenced at once
brushing the dust from their clothes and boots.

"These are Kirsten Piil's pages," said Wilhelm, laughing; "they
take care that people show themselves tolerably smart. But now we
are brushed enough!" A six-skilling-piece rejoiced these little
Savoyards.