order, Madame Heiberg knows how to captivate
the public by a word, a movement, and even by
silence. She sometimes conveys her meaning
without stirring in the least, and without uttering
a syllable. Silence and immobility are thus
converted into eloquence. A piece was written
for her entitled "No." During the first half
of the piece she has only this one word to
pronounce, and she pronounces it nineteen times:
but such is the marvellous suppleness of her
voice, so intelligent is her countenance, that
this simple monosyllable becomes, in her mouth,
a speech full of charm and diverse emotion.
These nineteen "Noes" express nineteen
different thoughts, each perfectly characterised by
the manner in which it is uttered.

Madame Heiberg is the widow of the eminent
author whose name she bears. Before becoming
acquainted with her future husband, she was
engaged to a man quite unfitted for her, who,
amongst his other gifts, possessed a rare amount
of avarice. One day in early spring, the lady
and her ungenerous swain were driving, in a
hired coach, along an avenue in the park, near
Copenhagen. The gentleman, in a fit of
unusual ill humour, drove on and on without
saying a word. The actress, out of patience,
broke silence at last. Opening both the doors
of the coach, "Monsieur," she said, "the best
plan is to put an end to this. Do you get out
at your door; I mean to get out at mine.
Adieu for ever!"

Upset at first by the sudden rupture, which
he did not in the least expect, he reflected an
instant, and then seemed to agree to the
proposition.

"But which of us," he asked, "is to pay
the fare?"

Tragedy is played in Denmark in a less solemn
and more human style than perhaps anywhere
else in Europe. There is less measured strut
than in England, less shouting than in Germany,
and less appearance of having swallowed a dose
of vitriol than in France. One of their first
tragedians is M. Michel Wiche, who also acts
comedy in a superior manner.

The People's Theatre, "Folke Theater," is
smaller than the Theatre Royal, but of more
cheerful aspect, resembling in its arrangements
the Théâtre des Variétés at Paris. Drama,
comedy, and vaudeville are acted there. The
actors are admirable for their natural and
intelligent "play." Madame Caroline Marguerithe
von der Recke, daughter of the celebrated dance-
composer Lumbye, and wife of the clever
vaudevilliste and song-writer, is the brilliant star
who is worshipped by the astronomers of that
dramatic firmament. It is a pardonable
indiscretion to mention that this charming artist was
born in Copenhagen in 1834. The Folke
Theatre is proud of a heroine of the age justly
glorified by the great Balzac.

To her other accomplishments, Madame von
der Recke adds that of being the composer of
very pleasing music. She has published several
collections of melodies and ballads whose
success was ensured by her singing them on the
stage, and in society, where she is sought not
only as the fashionable actress, but as the
talented woman and the well-conducted lady. It
is greatly to the credit of Denmark that,
throughout the whole of the little kingdom, no
prejudice weighs on the profession of dramatic
artist. When actors have talent and lead
honourable lives, they are everywhere received with
welcome, and treated with the consideration due
to their merit. Several Danish actors have
occupied eminent positions in the army, the
magistracy, at the bar, in the government, in the
liberal professions, and in science, before becoming,
on the stage, the interpreters of works of
genius.

When the warm and balmy breath of spring
has swept away the mists which veil the sky
during seven or eight months of the year, the
men throw aside their furred overcoats, the
women relieve their necks of their woollen
cravats, and the lower parts of their faces of their
silken chin-pieces, and everybody rushes abroad
to take their full share of open-air pleasures.
On the first of May, in the rural districts of
Denmark, a fête is celebrated which bears the
significant name "Ride Sommer i By," literally
"to introduce Spring into the village." To
lead spring into the village, the lads and lasses
put on all their finery, the former bedecking
their hats with pink, blue, or yellow cockades,
the latter garnishing their corsets with the first-
come flowers. Delegates canvas the farms and
country houses for a tribute in kind, consisting
of eggs, ham, sausages, cakes, poultry, and so
on, which afford the material for a banquet in
common. A king of the spring is elected by
universal suffrage—always some handsome
young fellow, who comes out triumphant from
the peaceful contest. His first duty is to choose
a queen; which is forthwith done. A garland
of poppies and bluebottles serves as her diadem.
The king and queen, arm in arm, gambol without
fear of compromising their dignity; they
even condescend so far as to stoop to a game of
blindman's-buff.

Tivoli is, par excellence, Copenhagen's place
of summer diversion. It is a very large and
handsome establishment, where, for fivepence
entrance money, you may enjoy a great variety
of amusement. There is food for all tastes at
Tivoli; a theatre for those who are fond of
comedy, dancing, and pantomime; a concert-
room for lovers of music; a circus for hippophiles;
a ball-room; Russian mountains; cafés
chantants; a pistol-shooting gallery; nine-pin
yards; and finally restaurants and a bazaar
whose stalls are kept by pretty attendants. It
is not rare to see from fifteen to twenty thousand
people at Tivoli. Its establishment is recent,
being a lucky speculation of M. Carstensen,
the eminent contractor. At Tivoli, the crowd
circulates calmly and silently, as everywhere
else; amusements are enjoyed with the moderation
which characterises the whole of the Danish
nation.

When people do not go to Tivoli, they betake
themselves to the park, where the beauties of