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moving araong llic lightgrey trunks of the stalely trecs lmt the red-deer and the doe, is now the scene of boistrous rnirlli and froli'c. Yet, not by a tenlh part so boistrous as in the primitive times, when Tivoli, Alhambra, Sommerlyst, Alleenbcrg were in the womb of the coming lime and even Klampenborg balhing placc was not conceived. But even yet the tradition is kept aliv by a row of tcnts on the so-called «hill», wliere roundabouts, jugglcrs, mountebanks, waffle-bakers, and singers liave encamped in lionour of Chirsten Piil, whose well pours ils clear cold stream into a slone basin hard by. It was indeed the atttri- buled healing virtuos of the waters of this spring, that made this spot of old the haunt during the summer-times of the feeblc, the lame, the maimed, the blind; of all who could crawl into the green-wood from the unwhole- somc crowded city, and hope to tind hoallh and strength in the sparkling waters of the holy well. And what have we gained by learning to despise such superstilions? The lame, the blind, the leprous of body have long ago ceased lo visit such spots; but how lame, how blind, how leprous are the seekers of pleasure that have succeeded thcm. Klam­ penbo r g terminus is close lo the enlrancc of the Park and immediately adjoining the llydro-