"In Danish we call a beard a _fugle_" (pronounced _fool_.)
"Then," I said, pretending to be offended, "I sing like a fool?"
"Exactly," he said with enthusiasm, his eyes beaming with joy through
his spectacles.
This was hopeless. I moved gently away from the man who "talked
English."
The candles had burned down almost to their _bobèches_, and we were
beginning to forget that we had eaten a dinner of fifteen courses, when
in came a procession of servants with piles of plates in their arms and
trays of _smördröd_ (sandwiches), tea, beer (in bottles), and cakes,
which are called here _kicks_. Everything seemed very tempting except
the things handed about by the stable-boy, who was dressed for the
occasion in a livery, much too large, and was preceded and followed by
a mixed odor of stable and almond soap.
What struck me as unusual was that the host named the hour for his
guests to go home. Therefore all the carriages were before the door at
the same time.
Johan explained the mistakes on the way home.
"The man with the gray hairs and the _beard_" (pronounced like _heard_)
had been _watching_ me. _Shield_ meant _child! A child_ in Danish is
_et barn_, which sounds the same as _eight barn_. _Two children_ (in
Danish) are _to börn_, pronounced _toe burn. Bird_ he pronounced like
_beard_, because it was written so. A bird in Danish is _fugle_ (fool).
Do you wonder that I was somewhat bewildered?
_January, 1878._
Dear Mother,--After Christmas Johan and I went to Copenhagen, where I
was presented to the King and the Queen. I was first received by the
_Grande Maîtresse_, Madame de Raben, and three _dames d'honneur_, who
were all pleasant but ceremonious. When the Queen entered the room and
I was presented to her she was most gracious and affable. She motioned
me to sit down beside her on the sofa. She said that she had heard much
about me. She spoke of my father-in-law, whom she _loved_, and Johan,
whom she _liked_ so much. She was most interested to hear about you and
the children. She had heard that Nina promised to be a beauty.
"If children would only grow up to their promises!" I said.
"Mine have," said the Queen; "they are all beautiful."
She showed me the photographs of the Princess of Wales and the
Grand-Duchess Dagmar of Russia. If they resemble their pictures they
must indeed be beautiful.
The _salon_ in which we sat was filled with drawings, pastels, and
photographs, and was so crowded with furniture that one could hardly
move about.
"I've been told," the Queen said, "that you have a splendid voice and
sing wonderfully. You must come some day and sing for me; I love
music." Then we talked music, the most delightful of subjects. The King
came in. He was also perfectly charming, and as kind as possible. He is
about sixty years old, but looks younger, having a wonderfully youthful
figure and a very handsome face. The King preferred to speak French,
but the Queen liked better to talk English, which she does to
perfection.
"Have you learned Danish yet?" the King asked me.
"Alas! your Majesty," I answered, "though I try very hard to learn, I
have not mastered it yet, and only dare to inflict it on my family."
"You will not find it difficult," he said. "You will learn it in time."
"I hope so, your Majesty--Time is a good teacher."
He told me an anecdote about Queen Desiree, of Sweden, wife of
Bernadotte, who on her arrival in Stockholm did not know one word of
Swedish.
She was taught certain phrases to use at her first reception when
ladies were presented to her. She was to say, "Are you married,
madame?" and then, "Have you any children?" Of course, she did not
understand the answers. "She was very unlucky," the King laughed, "and
got things mixed up, and once began her conversation with a lady by
asking, 'Have you any children?'"