The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1861-01-03

west, and shlVereu ana wrapped my cloak
round me at the sudden sensation of cold. 1T
is the snow wind, said an old Laplander as we
paced down to the village, 'no more flowers for
the lasses to braid in their hair this year"
must confess that | felt uncommonly like a
frightened child left alone in the dark, and I
regretted my whim for staying among the
Laps.
But that night there were high revels held
among the jewellers in caves. Peter Wow,
as chief of the village, entertained ali
the beauty and wealth(all the ugliness ard pov.
erty as welll Of Kublitz in his hospitabe halls
underground. Torches blazed and suffered
lamps fed by seal oil and deers fat,were lighted
and hung to every bracK ct and projection thro'
all the subterranean dwelling, and at very
early hour, the monotonous but impatient beat
ing Of the Lapland drum summoned the guests.
All KublitZ was there, young and old, in holiday
garb. There were games and sweet-meats for
he children, dancing for the lads and lasses, and
abudance oftobacco, gossip and strong liquors
for the seniors of the village. pet re ndeer,
la lovely milk white creature, almost hidden
by he flowers with which it was garlanded-
was led through the room by rope of roses
held by six young maidens. Six young hunt
ers followed, each with drawn sword, with
which they were presently to figure in the an
cient sword dance of Scandinavia. The orches
ira, composed of the strangest looking instru-
ments, still managed-for the Laps are very
musical people-to discourse sweet sounds now
almost maddeningly gay and exciting. Such
hearty, vigorous. agile dancing | never saw be-
FORE Even in the gayest circles of Stockholm,
primitive capital, in which the elegant world
has not become too languid for enjoyne mt, those
Laplrnd dancers would have beetawo nGsrs, and
yet there was nothing bolsterous Or ungainy in
their movements. Indeed they were AS sDrigh I,
y and almost small as fairies, and had some
| thing of the fawnlike elasticity and grace of
childhood in all their motions Indeed it was
a marvellous sight, that assembly of small folks
under the level of the earth, and it put me in
mind of what | had heard of the Dalos Shea of
the Scottish legends, and their revelry within
some haunted hill. | could hardly help fancy
ling | was really a captive or Il guest Of troop
Of carousing gnomes, OF that like the Rhvner I
had been borne away to Faryland, and Lad
bnt a faint prospect Of revisitiug the real day>
light world again
The next morning, | had surprise indeed
A shout from the upper earth aroused me- and
scrambIing to the outer air, beheld the rocks
the black pine copse, the llimitable moorlands
one dazzling, all pevading eet of binding
snow. All gone! the fair flowers, the song
birds, the uncultured fruits that offered their
| profusion everywhere. blooming heather and
green grass.all gone, buried, till summer brought
back the daylight, beneath a spotless, unyary-
ing cloud of virgin snow. To my great relief,
| it was not as darN as l had expected A sort
Of hazy, shimmering light prevailed, like moon
beams through mist. The northern wind
blew keen; and even as gazed, the binding
snow flakes came whrling down again, and
seemed to bury the dead summer deeper at
every instant. ri
We all laid by our summer clothes, put on
our manifold wraps of fur and wooden, and be-
| took us TO winter avocatons. And now came
a strange season, when it was hard to say
whether 1t was day night, or both, or Meth
err. The lamps were never suffered to go out
the fddles and drums, the bone flute and the
musk oxs horn, were never silent for three
consecutive hours; and there seemed no regu-
lar time for meals for sleep, or work, or recre
alton. On the ntrary, music, and such SIM
! pie labOrs as could be performed under ground
aud dancing and cooking, to say nothins of
eating, drinking and gossiping, went on in a
promiscuouS fashion through the twenty four
hours of what would, down south, have been
legal day. If any one felt tired or sleepy, he
or she went to sleep; the hungry ate, the thris-
ty drank; the perpetual fires constantly cooked
the most outandish messes; the fddles aud
drums went on as il self acting; the reindeer
were fed, tended and mked; birchen bowls
were carved, horn trinkets chiselled, and sto-
ries related to gaping listeners, all at once and
vi forever. | left off looking at my watch
at all except mechanically. l went about as a
sleep walker might; l d,eamed standing. l
passed great part OF that wonderful winter
not uDpleasantly, but in a sort of amabe
night mare. OF course l saw no newspaper;
the world might wag as it pleased, 1t was in
the day light in the dark. OF course | re-
eeived no letters; the post courier was shut out
along with the sun, and l was the tenont of
strange lamplit, mOonshiny worl1.
We were not always underground. In the
fine weather the reindeer were driven to
browse on the lichens ami MOSES, from which
they scratched away the snow with their feet.
There were hunting parties too, when we
chased and slew the white wolves, the white !
b tars, the martens, the DEER the birds, all and
every one in their white livery of white. There
was the ermine chase and the chase of The |
white fox and grand battle with an old giant
of bear, who presumed on the superslitious
respect The Laps have for "Old Grandfather
Wizard" as they call him, and robbed e
store houses, until his lhefts became unbeara>
Bile.
The wolf hunts were rather dangerous; but
the hear was terrible fellow; he wounded |
four OF our bes hunters, cowed the dogs with |
his urslne hugs, and nearly bea: the whole CONF |
nlunity, when lucky shot laid him low, And
then there was the glorious drives Oh, the |
wild excitement of sweeping over the frozen
snow in a deer drawn sledge. swift as a hawk |
on the wing, every bell juggling, and the wild
driver singing as he cheers on his antlered |
team, that fly like the wind over the dazzling |
white moorlands. The worst of it is, it takes
away your breath uncommonly; and when | |
waxed confident, and would drive personally |
l wa run away with of course, upset with an
awful hurl into a drift five fathom deep, and
dug cut ANONYMOUSLY, amid much laughter of
the little folks, who greatly crowed over clum |
sy CULVER Still, the drives were famous fun
I mol
ruhbi ng; but, worse was struck with snow !
blindness, for l had to pass a fortnight in my
cabin in absolute darkness; aud was not the |
happier for the reflection that my own obstin- |
acy IN refusing to wear snow spectacles had !
brought this agreeable seclusion upon me. But /
the kind little folks BUSTED about me, and told |
me the most wonderful stories about gnomes, |
witches, genii and so forth, all with perfect
childish belief and gravity, and sang and play
ed TO me, and lightened my loneliness consld |
bly,. When recovered, / was thankful for
the spcctacles, and never suffered from the
glare any more. So the winter went on.
But the dancers! l was going to omit the |
most strangely splendid sight that ever aston |
shed my eyes, and TO which a whole Royal |
Academy of artists could never do justice. The
Northern Lights, the customary auroras and
meteors, were unusually splendid about mid
winter: but once, as L was returning from a
sledge excursion, an exclamation from my
guide made me start. shall never forget the |
scene. The heavens were one vast pavilion
OF many colored light; blne. orange, frey red, |
deep violet, now paved with frey gold, now
spangled with lustrous gems, all blended in one
glowing mass whilebeneath and touching the
snowy plain, wheeled and spalkled, as in fam
tasticsdance, hundred prismatc fres,that
seemed the creation ofsome wild dream These
were the Merry Dancers, the wondrous Lights
of the North. Alb it was a pleasant winter.
and protest that was half sorry when we
all went up the hill again, and hailed the rising
sun; and dav and summer came pouring il at
once; and the boat was prepared, and | bade
my gnome hosts adieu, and went off to the day
light, open air, GlOucestefshire world again.
Plain Praying.
Thomas Stockton. the venerable chaplain of