Since the sixteenth century Norway has had an excellent public posting system which enables the traveler to go to the most remote parts of the country at moderate and fixed rates. Fast and slow posting stations are established by the government along all the national highways. At the former, horses must be kept in readiness; whereas, at the latter, the horses may be in distant fields at work, and a couple of hours may elapse before the traveler can proceed upon his journey. The rates, which are determined by the government, are, from fast stations, about seven cents a mile for a horse and two-wheeled conveyance or sledge; but from slow stations they are scarcely more than half that price. When the road is over very steep mountains, an extra fare is charged, usually double; but this is a government regulation and is always understood. The posting stations are, for the most part, isolated and solitary farms. The farmers undertake to provide rooms and meals, as well as drivers, horses, and conveyances. Stations are usually from seven to fifteen miles apart, and farmers are required to convey the traveler only as far as the next station.

Two kinds of wagons are used, the carriole and the stolkjaerre. The carriole resembles an American sulky, except that it is springless, and nearly the entire weight is forward of the axle. It is a two-wheeled gig with the body shaped like the bowl of a spoon. The seat, in front of the axletree, is fastened by cross-pieces to the long, slender shafts that project behind and provide a place for light luggage and a seat for the driver. The carriole is for one passenger. It is falling into disuse, and its place is being taken by the stolkjaerre, a two-wheeled cart that will carry two passengers. It also has long shafts which extend under the axletree to make a support for the luggage and a seat for the driver. The passenger's seat is in front, perched on two wooden bars stretched obliquely upwards and backwards from the front of the vehicle. The drivers, usually men although sometimes girls, vary in age from six to sixty years.

The Norwegian horses are stout, stubby, and spirited little beasts. They are cream-colored, high crested, and have black manes and tails; the manes are cropped, except the forelocks, which are left to protect the eyes from the sun, and the tails are very full. Horses are valued in Norway by the size and fullness of their tails. These little animals are so trustworthy and intelligent that tourists, as well as peasants, soon get to look upon them as companions. In every "skyds-station," as the posting stations are called, in a conspicuous place is posted this inscription: Vaer god mod hesten. This means "be good to the horse." At every station there is also a book, called the skydsbog, in which travelers are requested to write their names and any complaints they may have to make regarding their treatment. At intervals these books are examined by government officials.

Swedish horses are much larger than those of Norway, tall, heavy, with long legs and barrel-shaped bodies, very much like Canadian stock. They drive well, make good speed, and will eat anything. At the livery stables one can hire outfits by the day or hour—the legal price being 63 cents an hour or 56 cents to any point within the city limits, and there is an excellent cab system, with what is known as the "taxameter" register. Every cab is equipped with an arrangement similar to a gas meter, which shows on a dial the money due, whether you are using it by the hour or by the distance. The hackman sets his clock at zero at the time of starting, according to the number of passengers or whether he is hired by time or distance, and it ticks away while you ride or while he waits. The fare for one or two persons is sixty-two cents per hour; for three persons, eighty-seven cents an hour; for four persons, $1.24 and a tip to the driver anywhere from one cent to fifteen cents, according to the time he has been with you. The public posting system outside of the cities is similar to that of Norway.

The national government builds the main highways, while the cross roads are built by the parishes. The management is in the hands of a bureau in the national department of public works, and the maintenance falls upon the people who live in the neighborhood, under the supervision of a local inspector. Every farmer has a piece of road to take care of, according to the amount of land he owns, and at intervals slabs of cast iron are erected bearing his name and the section of the road he is to keep in order. Thus every man's reputation is at stake in the neighborhood, and if there is a muddy place or a rut, everybody knows who is to blame for it, and it can not be laid to the county commissioner, as is the case in America. On the outside of each road is a line of large blocks of stone set upright, which serves as a barrier to prevent wagons from going off into the ditch. There are 6,500 miles of main highway, and 11,000 miles of cross-road, or a total of 17,500 miles of roads in Norway, and the total expenditure upon them by national and local authorities will average a million and a half dollars every year.

The first cost of a road is usually about $3,000 a mile. They first dig an excavation about three feet deep, as if they were going to make a canal. On the bottom are thrown heavy blocks of stone through which the water can filter, and occasionally there is a little drain to carry it off. Upon this is a layer of smaller stones, and then still smaller, until the surfacing is reached, which is macadam of pounded slate, mixed with gravel and stone.

During the winter the farmers have to keep their several sections free from snow, but to do this it is necessary for them to co-operate, for it would be impossible for one family to handle the heavy plows that are necessary. Six, eight, and ten horses are often hitched to them—all the horses in the neighborhood—and it is often the work of weeks instead of days to get the roads opened up for travel, but when it is once done, it is as clear and smooth for sleighs as a city boulevard.

Norway has only one mile of railway for every one hundred square miles of land; but the mountainous character of the country, the heavy snowfall during the long winters, and the thin, scattered population make railway construction almost prohibitive. Nevertheless, the new kingdom has made a commendable beginning, and the state has plans for enormous extensions during the next twenty-five years. There are now nine railway lines in the country, with a total mileage of one thousand five hundred and eighty-four, but half of which is broad gauge. The state railways have been constructed partly by subscriptions taken in the districts interested in the construction of new lines, and partly at the expense of the national government.

The leading railway lines radiate from Christiania to Stockholm, Goteborg, Trondhjem, Gudbransdal, Telemarken, and the Valders. The longest line—three hundred and fifty miles—is from Christiania to Trondhjem through Hamar. There is also a relatively long line—one hundred and ninety miles—from Christiania up the Gudbrandsdal by Lake Mjosen and through Lillehammer to Otta. In 1906, the Valders railway, connecting Christiania with Fagernaes—a distance of one hundred and thirty-one miles—was opened. This connects with the most important of the new roads being built, the one from Christiania to Bergen. This road will reach entirely across the country, from Christiania on the Swedish frontier to Bergen on the Atlantic coast, thus making connection between the two largest cities of Norway, journeys between which are now only possible by steamships and carriages, consuming from three to six days.

The new road goes through the mountains and presents many engineering difficulties. Two-thirds of the way the roadbed must be cut out of the mountain side, and there is a tunnel three miles long at a height of two thousand eight hundred and twenty feet above the sea level. The snow in the winter is so heavy that it will be necessary to cover the tracks with sheds for a distance of nearly sixty miles. The construction is not only difficult, but expensive, and although the distance is but three hundred and ten miles, it will be one of the most costly railroads ever built. Sixty-seven miles of the line between Bergen and Vose, on the western coast, is already in operation, and it is a favorite journey of tourists, for the scenery is superb, although the traveler is in a tunnel one-tenth of the entire distance. There are forty-eight tunnels in all. A shelf has been hewn and blasted along the side of the mountains that encloses the celebrated Sorfjord.

The Norwegians call a railway a jernbane, literally "an iron path." Their cars are made on the conventional European pattern, and are light and comfortable. They are furnished with toilet rooms, and run smoothly and noiselessly. Most of the trains are equipped with Westinghouse brakes, steam heat, and electric lights. The trains run very slowly. Economy is studied in this respect, as in every other. There is a certain speed—say, fifteen or eighteen miles an hour—which can be maintained at a minimum consumption of fuel, and the Scandinavian railway managers have figured it down to a dot. They can haul a longer train a greater distance with a ton of coal than any other engineers, and the most scrupulous attention is applied to every feature of management, the tracks, the rolling stock, the station, the crossings. The crossing-keepers are usually women. A large number of that sex are employed by the railways.

The stops at the stations seem unnecessarily long to impatient Americans, but the time is utilized by the leisurely passengers in drinking big goblets of beer, and by the conductor in parading up and down the platform so that the patrons of the road can have an opportunity to admire his radiant uniform and fine shape. In Scandinavian countries the best-looking men seem to have been selected for railway conductors and policemen, and their deportment is decidedly different from what we are used to in America. If you ask a question of a Norwegian policeman, he will bring his heels together, give a military salute, and stand in the attitude of attention like a soldier while he answers. He usually understands English, too, and those who can not are remarkably accurate guessers, and all take a friendly interest in your inquiries instead of giving you a short answer and a cold shoulder like the policemen in our cities. They will walk to the corner to point out the house in the middle of the next block if that is where you want to go, and when you thank them for their attention, you get another salute that makes you feel as big as a major general, or as if you had been mistaken for a member of the royal family. Railway conductors are equally polite, and seem to understand that it is a part of their business to protect tender-footed travelers, as angels always look after good little boys.

In southern Sweden there is scarcely a parish without a railway, and in the northern part of the kingdom, where the railway facilities are limited, posting stations are maintained by the government similar to those in Norway. There is a railway running as far north as the 67th parallel of latitude, about fifty miles beyond the polar circle into Lapland, to the famous mines of Malmberget, with a branch to Trondhjem, Norway. The line follows the coast of the Gulf of Bothnia very closely, through a country well covered with small pine timber, which was being rapidly stripped until the government interfered by passing rigid regulations and appointing foresters to enforce them.

You can see the midnight sun from several places on this railway, anywhere above 66 degrees and 33 minutes of latitude, from the 9th of June to the 3d of July, and farther north for a longer period. At Gellivare the midnight sun can be seen regularly from June 5 to July 11, and it is a much more convenient and quicker journey than to the North Cape and other polar resorts in Norway. During that period a traveler is reasonably certain of seeing the sun at all hours of the day as long as he cares to stay, while over in Norway that privilege is rare and uncertain, owing to the fogs and clouds that obscure the horizon sometimes for days at a time. But there is nothing else to call the tourist to this part of Sweden, for the scenery is monotonous and uninteresting and the facilities for travel are primitive and the tourists are few.

Everybody who has taken the trouble to make the journey, of course, advises other people to do the same, and insists that it is worth the time, money, and fatigue it costs, on the same principle as the fox that lost his tail in a trap wanted all the other foxes to cut off their tails. There is one train each way daily, but it runs very slowly,—about fifteen or eighteen miles an hour,—and stops a long time at the stations. The cars are comfortable. The road belongs to the government, and was built in the '90's for the transportation of ore from the iron mines, which was previously hauled by cart in summer and reindeer sledges in winter, to the ports of Lulea and Allapen, a distance of about one hundred and forty miles.

When it is recalled that two-thirds of the inhabitants of Norway live upon the coasts and fjords, the large part which water traffic plays in the economy of the country will be easily understood. The coast being well protected by a chain of islands, the skjaergaard, both travel and commerce are carried on by means of small open boats. The fjord rowboats, as a rule, are light and pointed, with upright and high prow, and they carry a square sail. They are light to row, and they go capitally before the wind. There is an extensive government posting system on the coasts, fjords, and inland lakes, similar to that along the public highways already described. The tariff from fast stations for a four-oared boat and sail with two rowers is about twelve cents a mile; eighteen cents for three rowers and a six-oared boat, and twenty-four cents a mile for a boat with eight oars and four rowers. The tariff is decided by the size of the boat and not by the number of passengers. The rowers are not infrequently girls and women.

The large fjords and lakes have ample steamboat facilities, the coast service between Bergen and Trondhjem being especially good. The navigable channels of the fjords represent a coast line of twelve thousand miles, and they are so entirely separated from the sea by islands and reefs and obstructed at their entrances by old moraines, that the fresh water from the melting snows and rivers lies four or five feet deep on the surface. Small steamers ply on all the larger fjords on which the rates are moderate and the accommodations fair. On most of these boats a passenger pays full fare for himself and half fare for the other members of his family, including his wife. Persons who want to see the fjords of Norway thoroughly should take the regular mail steamers, which call at all small ports and take a month instead of a week for the voyage. The boats are small, but clean and comfortable, and only occasionally have bad weather—very seldom in summer. They wind in and out of the narrow passages, and because of their size can navigate where the larger tourist steamers are not able to go, and therefore the passengers on the latter miss some of the finest scenery.

Voyages to the North Cape by the tourist steamers are limited to a few weeks during the midsummer, when the sun is supposed to be visible at midnight in the arctic regions, but steamers run regularly all the year way around the Cape to Archangel, VadsÖ, and Horningsvaag, the arctic ports of Russia. The fjords never freeze, so that navigation is always open, and there is more or less travel in midwinter between the civilized portions of the arctic regions.

If you will take your map and examine the north coast of Europe within the arctic circle, you will find several towns east of the North Cape on the White Sea which are wide open 365 days in the year, and do more business in the winter than during the summer months. They do not see the sun from December to February. At some places it is invisible for a longer period, but at Hammerfest the streets, houses, and business places are lighted with electric lights, and similar plants are being introduced into other cities of the polar section. It is stated, also, that the aurora borealis is so brilliant night after night as to make it easy to read ordinary newspaper print without artificial light, and by long experience people are prepared for the peculiar conditions that exist there. The passengers on the steamers in these waters in winter are mostly commercial travelers and men interested in the fisheries, which are more active from October to March than at any other time of the year.

There are also two canals in Norway that are used for passenger traffic—the Fredrikshald canal, connecting the FemsjÖen and Skullerud lakes, and the Skien-NordsjÖ-Bandak canal, connecting the NordsjÖ lake with the Hitterdal and Bandak lakes. Between the Hitterdal and the NordsjÖ lake there is a rise of fifty feet, which is overcome by two locks at Skien and four at Loveid; and between the NordsjÖ and the Bandak lakes there is a rise of one hundred and eighty-seven feet, which is overcome by fourteen locks, five of which are around a waterfall, the Vrangfos, where the average rise for each lock is about thirteen feet. The postal, telegraph, and telephone systems, all under government control, are both cheaper and more efficient than in the United States, where the two latter are private monopolies. With the exception of Switzerland, Norway is more abundantly supplied with postoffices, in proportion to her size, than any other country in the international postal union. The length of her telegraph lines, in relation to the population of the country is greater than in any other country. There is no place in the world where telephones are so cheap or so numerous as in Stockholm. There are more telephones in Stockholm than in Berlin or London, and it is contended that there are more than in Paris, but that is doubtful. The total number of instruments in use is nearly 50,000 to a population of 300,000. You can find a telephone in every shop and in almost every house, and in the parks and on the street corners on lamp posts are little booths similar to those used for police boxes in the cities of the United States. They work automatically. You drop a little coin worth three cents into the slot, and then ring the bell. For several years every room in the principal hotels has had its own telephone, on the same system that has recently been introduced into the United States, and upon some of the steamers sailing from Stockholm there is a telephone in every stateroom. The long distance 'phones and all the lines outside of two or three of the principal cities belong to the government and are operated by the Postoffice Department. The rents vary from $10 to $28 a year.

The telegraph system is owned by the government, which charges a uniform rate of fifteen cents for ten words to any part of the country.