But, in reference to the topic of the handker chiefs, a circumstance occurred which I had nearly overlooked, and which was to me of far more interest than all the rest. A few days before I left the Swedish capi tal, my servant informed me that an old lady wished to speak with me. I at once waited upon my visitor. She was habited in the simple Swedish costume, and on one of her arms carried a small basket, as if she had been at market. There was something about the serene, melancholy, yet graceful fading features of the old lady, which at once prepossessed me in her behalf, and when in the most plain tive tones she enquired — "Can yeg tella Swenska ?" the favourable impression was no wise effaced. To her query I at once rejoined " Ya" when after making the usual apologies for intruding, she said in Swedish, " Have you a Jenny Lind handkerchief to dispose of?" I replied that they were all gone. On this the old lady seemed greatly disappointed, and informed me that she had seen one of the handkerchiefs, and had come to purchase a portrait of her dear daughter. This turned out to be Jenny Lind's mother, whom I had mistaken for one of the peasants from the sub urbs. I knew I had only one of the hand kerchiefs left, but how to get over the diffi culty of having declared 1 had none, and then to produce one ? I reflected a moment, told her I would see if there was one left, and af ter being absent a few minutes, returned and asked the old lady to look into her basket. She did so, and to her great astonishment, discovered a beautiful silk Jenny Lind naisduk. The parent of the illustrious Swede gazed on the portrait of her daughter with delight, an i after pi offering money for the article (which I accepted, in order that I might still more puzzle my visitc by enabling her to find the cash safe in her basket when she got home), she took her leave with a profusion of thanks and compliments. " These," adds Mr. 