THE PUPPET SHOWMAN. 143

of heaven, And then #e whose father belonged to -ny calling,
the son of the old figure-head carver, he whom we have our-
selves seen with his silver hairs and his broad shoulders, he whose
name is spoken of.in all lands! Yes, Ze was a sculptor; Jam
only a carver. Yes, Holger Danske may come in many forms,
so that one hears in every country in the world of Denmark’s
strength. Shall-we now drink the health of Bertel ?”*

But the little lad in the bed saw plainly the old Kronenburg with
the Oer Sound, the real Holger Danske, who sat deep below, with
his beard grown through the marble table, dreaming of all that
happens up here. Holger Danske also dreamed of the little
humble room where the carver sat; he heard all that passed, and
nodded in his sleep, and said,

“Yes, remember me,.ye Danish folk; remember me. I shall
come in the hour of need.”

And without by the Kronenburg shone the bright day, and the
wind carried the notes of the hunting-horn over from the neigh-
bouring land; the ships sailed past, and saluted, “Boom! boom!”
and ‘from the Kronenburg came the reply, “ Boom! boom!” But
Holger Danske did not awake, however loudly they shot, for it was
only “ Good day” and “ Thank you!” There must be another
kind of shooting before he awakes; but he will awake, for there
is faith in Holger Danske.

THE PUPPET SHOWMAN.

N board the steamer was an elderly man with such a merry
face that, if it did not belie him, he must have been the
happiest fellow in creation. And, indeed, he declared he

was the happiest man; I heard it out of his own mouth. He was
a Dane, a travelling theatre director. He had all his company
with him in a large box, for he was proprietor of a puppet-show.
His inborn cheerfulness, he said, had been purified by a Poly-
technic candidate, and the experiment had made him completely
happy. I did not at first understand all this, but afterwards he
explained the whole story to me, and here it is. He told me:
“It was in the little town of Slagelse I gave a representation in
the hall of the posting-house, and had a brilliant audience, en-
tirelya juvenileone, with the exception of two respectable matrons.
All at once a person in black, of student-like appearance, came
into the room and sat down; he laughed aloud at the telling parts,

Bertel Thorwaldsen.