A picture of what the artists call a Lapland “interior,” of the domestic economy of a Lapp hut, is painted for us by the author of a recent book of travel, entitled “Try Lapland.” After a long day’s journey, in the neighbourhood of Lake Randejaur, weary and cold, he and his companions came upon a small hut, and had visions of obtaining a night’s rest; but a closer acquaintance with the hut convinced them that such a proceeding would be undesirable. For, knocking at the door, and pulling up the latch, they entered, to see before them a family scene! In an inconceivably dirty room stood a still dirtier beldame, making coffee. Her husband, an old man of seventy, sat on one side; while a hideous, deformed little Lapp, whether man or woman they could hardly tell, squatted on the floor on the other, in full costume, consisting of high-peaked blue cloth cap, and reindeer-skin dress, ornamented with beads and spangles. Her face was brown as a berry, long lanky black hair streamed down her cheeks; and, staring at the intruders, she begged for “penge” (money). Two young men were snoring in one bed, and two boys in another placed opposite to it, each being covered with a few reindeer-skins. The entrance of the strangers aroused the sleepers to give one hasty look, and then they snored again. The lady of the house offered coffee; and though everything looked so dirty as to create a positive feeling of disgust, the travellers could not afford to be particular, and accepted her offer, which put her in a perfect ecstasy of delight. Quickly she scuttled off to the well for water, and, filling her kettle, set to work to roast fresh coffee. The old man got up and endeavoured to rouse the sleepers, when he understood that the strangers were in immediate want of boats and rowers. Leaving him to make the necessary preparations, they went out to take a look at the surrounding scenery; and returning in a quarter of an hour, expected to find them preparing the boats, which lay two or three hundred yards off. But, to their surprise, not the slightest change had occurred in the position of the sleepers; and, after drinking their coffee out of the one cup the Lapps possessed, they grew impatient, and stormed at the young men, trying even to pull them out of bed--but they would not budge. “The father,” says our authority, “who protested great love for the English, but turned out the biggest rascal we had come across, was as anxious as we were that his sons should get up and row us;--but not a bit of it! He told us that they had been out three days and three nights on the Fells, and were thoroughly exhausted. What was to be done, we could not think. It was getting serious; we certainly could not sleep in this dreadful hole, and there was no other shelter near. “Money had no power: though I showed the almighty dollar to the weary slumberers, (they had surely never been in America!) they turned away with a grunt.