Many feelings stir within me as I thus approach the end of my voyage, feelings not easy to describe. What will be the end of it? That I do not know. One thing, however, I know: that I shall see something new; learn something new; forget that which was of old; and press onward to that which lies before me. There is much for me to forget, and to be renewed. And this, also, I know: that friends will meet me in that foreign land; and that one faithful friend comes to meet me on the shore. That is good!
Good night, dear little sister. I embrace you and mamma; kind greetings to relations and friends—and may she live in the new world, as in the old,
Your
FREDRIKA.
LETTER II.
“Good morning, little sister mine! or rather, good evening in the New World, where I now set firm foot, after thirteen days rocking on the sea. I am lodging in the Astor House, one of the largest and best hotels of New York, and where the inhabitants are as numerous as in the capital of Iceland, namely, about five hundred.
Opposite to this Astor House I see a large, so-called, museum, with fluttering banners and green shrubs on the roof, and the walls covered with immense paintings, representing “The Greatest Wonders in the World,” in immense, wonderful animals, and extraordinary human beings, all of which may be seen in the house; among these I observe a fellow who makes a summerset aloft in the air out of the yawning jaws of a whale; a “salto mortale,” like the salt-prophet, Jonas; and many such-like curiosities, which are still further trumpetted forth
