a tale from Utsjoki, from J. A. Friis, Lappiske Sprogprøver (1856)
Told in North Sámi at Ohcejohka (Utsjoki) and printed by Jens Andreas Friis in 1856, this is a string of a fox's tricks: he steals a mountain man's fish, gets the bear's tail frozen into a well and then burns the bear in a pit, sells its bones to a man as treasure in exchange for his reindeer, and at last borrows the aspen's eyes. Along the way the tale tells how the marks in a slaughtered reindeer got their names, and why the stoat's tail is tipped with black and the fox's with white.
Translation
Once, when a fox was out roaming and came onto a sledge-road, he began to think: "What if I make myself dead?" And so he made himself dead on the sledge-track. Then a mountain man came along with his reindeer train, and sees the fox dead on the sledge-track. So he took him and carried him to the last sledge — and that was the fish-sledge — and laid him hastily under the lashings, just as he was.
The fox made himself dead, and his legs had gone stiff; but when the man drove off again, the fox came to life and bit through the draught-rope — and so the sledge was left behind. Then it came on to snow. When the man noticed that his sledge had gone missing, he set off to look for it; but the driving snow had taken the track, and in the bad weather he could not find the sledge any more.
Then the fox took the fish and set off carrying them. Then the bear found the fox carrying those fish, and when he came up to the fox, he asks: "Where did you get those?" "I put my tail into a man's well, and the fish stuck to it," said the fox. "Won't fish stick to my tail too?" "You couldn't bear what I have borne!" "Oh, oh, couldn't I bear that!" "Well then, you put your tail into the man's well too!"
Then the fox took him and brought him there, to that well, and said: "This is the well where I fished up my fish!" Then the bear thrust his tail in there, into that water-well. Then the fox himself wandered about there, until the bear's tail froze into the well. When he knew that the bear's tail had frozen in good and hard, the fox began to shout: "Come, men, with guns and spears! The bear is shitting in your well!"
Then the men came with guns and spears, and when the bear heard that, he jumped up and tore his tail right off; but the fox bounded away into the wilds and crept under a pine root. He says to his feet: "What do you do for me, my foot, when I am betrayed?" "I gallop off in haste!" "What do you do, my nose, when I am betrayed?" "I smell from far off!" "What do you do, my ear, when I am betrayed?" "I hear from far off!" "What do you do, my tail, when I am betrayed?" "I hold back. Get out! Get out!"
Then the bear came there and began to dig at the roots. At last the bear caught hold of the tail, threw the fox onto his own back, and went off with him. The two of them came to the foot of a birch, and saw a spotted woodpecker pecking at a tree. The fox says to himself, alone: "Better little times those were, when I used to make those pretty little birds speckled!" The bear asked quickly: "What are you saying, old fox?" The fox said: "Keep carrying, keep carrying to your eating-place, and eat!"
Then they go on again, and came up to another woodpecker. Again the fox says: "Better little times those were, when I used to make those pretty little birds speckled!" The bear says: "Won't you make me speckled too?" "You couldn't bear the pains that go with it! For that a pit must be dug, withies twisted, stakes nailed fast, bits of tar stuffed into the pit, and a fire lit in it." The bear said: "Never mind; however big the work may be, I will surely do all that work," and so he set to work.
When the bear had finished working, the fox tied the bear fast with the withies at the edge of the pit, and when the pit had burned well, the fox went to gnaw at the withies. The bear thought the fox was decorating his back just then — though he had been gnawing the withies — and said: "Hot, hot, old fox!" Then the fox said: "I knew it already: you can't bear the pains that the little bird bore." Then the bear said: "I can bear it, I can bear it!" — his fur had already begun to burn.
And when the fox had managed to gnaw them all through, he shoved the bear into the pit, bounded away himself into the wilds, and stayed there until he judged that by now everything had burned and grown cold. Then he came back there with a sack and gathered up the bones, every one of them, and set off. Then he came up to a man, and shook his sack so that the bones clinked. Then the man heard it, and thought: "Isn't something ringing in there like gold and silver?"
The man asks: "What have you got there?" "My father's and my mother's inheritance!" "Won't you sell them to me?" "Not I, not before you have sold me that little draught-reindeer, and that little two-winter bull, and the little three-winter bull, and that little reindeer cow." The man promised: "You shall have them, surely!" But the fox said: "When I trade you this sack, you must not look, mind, before you have got behind five or six little hills. If you look before that, they will turn into little burnt bones."
So the two of them bargained, or traded. The man took the sack, and the fox the reindeer, and then they went off each his own way, the fox with the reindeer and the man with the silver-sack. Then the fox sought helpers for himself to slaughter the reindeer. He called together bears, wolves, wolverines, stoats, mice, arctic foxes, a lizard, a snake and a frog. Then they began shooting those reindeer, or killing them, as a help to him.
The bear shot into the jawbone. And that is why there is marrow in the jawbone that is still called "the bear-arrow." The wolf shot into the back of the thigh, and that is why there is now a mark in the draught-reindeer, in the back of its thigh, like an arrow, which is called "the wolf-arrow." The wolverine shot into the nape, and that is why the draught-reindeer has the mark of the wolverine-arrow in its nape (the neck-sinew). The stoat shot into the root of the throat, and that is why the stoat's mark is at the root of the windpipe.
The mouse shot into the cleft of the hoof, and that is why its mark, "the mouse-arrow," is in the cleft of the hoof. The lizard shot into the gut, and that is why its arrow is in the gut. Then the arctic fox shot into the root of the ear, and that is why at the root of the ear, on the back side, there is a little bone which is called "the arctic-fox-arrow." The snake shot into the bowel that is fastened to the gut; that is why there is a mark in the bowel, which is called "the snake-arrow." Then the frog shot into the heart-fat; that is why between the heart-fat and the heart there is a little bone, which is called "the frog-arrow."
Then they killed all the reindeer. The fox says: "Now I must go and rinse out the paunch." Then he took the paunch and went behind a stone, and then he began to howl, as if people had caught hold of him; they heard that voice, and all of them fled in fright, every one his own way. Then the fox was left there by himself, alone, to do the cooking.
Then the man came, the one he had fooled, and says: "What are you doing now? Why did you lie to me, so that you would sell me burnt bones? And why have you slaughtered all the reindeer?" "It can hardly have been me, brother; it was a crowd that slaughtered them!" When the man noticed a certain stoat with a greasy mouth leaping about there, he grabbed the pot-hook and struck at the stoat with the pot-hook, and hit nothing but the tip of its tail; and so the tip of its tail turned black.
The fox bounded away into the wilds and came to the river-bank, to a man, while the man was mending a boat. The fox says: "If only I too could mend that little boat!" The man says: "If you don't leave off your prattling, I'll grab you and throw you onto that little rock in the water!" Again the fox says: "If only I could mend that little boat!" Then the man grabbed him and threw him onto the little rock in the water.
The fox began to shout: "Fish, come and ferry me to the shore!" Then the fish came. A pike came. The fox says: "I won't sit on your flat little back!" A burbot came. "Not I, on your slimy little skin!" A grayling came. "Not I, on your sharp little ridge of a back!" A perch came. "Not I, on your spiny little back!" A char came. "You might do too, but you won't do either!" A trout came. "You might do too, but you won't do either!"
A salmon came. "You'll do, surely! Come quickly a little nearer, so that I don't wet my foot!" And when the salmon came close beside him, the fox flung the salmon up onto the shore, stuck it on the end of a roasting-spit, and lit a fire. Then it began to crackle. The fox says to himself, alone: "Now the army is coming!" He glanced at his fish: "Isn't it his little fish that is crackling!" He grabbed it and dashed it against a stone — and then it burned his eyes.
Then he set off on his way without eyes. He came to a birch and asks the birch: "Have you any little eyes to spare?" "Not one!" He came to a pine and asks to borrow from the pine: "Have you any eyes?" "I haven't a single one!" He came to an aspen and asks the aspen: "Have you any little eyes to spare?" "I have one pair; only I won't lend them for long, just for a short while."
The fox says: "You won't have to lend them for long; behind that hill there I have eyes." Then he got the eyes, and then he bounded away and said: "From kin to kin (I have got the aspen's eyes)!" That is why the aspen has eyes as if burnt, because it traded its eyes with the fox. Then the aspen grew angry and lashed at the fox; it reached no further than just the tip of his tail, and so only the tip of his tail turned white.
Colophon
Translated from the North Sámi of Lappiske Sprogprøver: en Samling af lappiske Eventyr, Ordsprog og Gaader, edited by J. A. Friis (Christiania: J. W. Cappelen, 1856), pp. 6, 8, 10, 12 and 14, from the group printed under the running head Ucjok, which Friis's glossary gives as the river and parish of Utsjok (Utsjoki). For the first two tales of the book Friis printed his own Norwegian translation on the facing pages; this English was made from the Sámi pages alone, and the Norwegian was not consulted. The text was transcribed from the page images of the New York Public Library copy, and Friis's own correction for p. 10 was applied (oalol for oallol, twice); the opening quotation mark missing before the bear's Voj, voj, and slips his list does not mention, among them buoidag beside buojdag, are kept as printed. Words were checked in the Sámi–Norwegian glossary that Friis printed at the back of the same book, and in his larger Ordbog over det lappiske Sprog (1887): a gærës is the reindeer sledge, the kjæris of the glossary's Norwegian (the 1887 dictionary, under Gerés, an open sledge often used for freight), and a rajdo a string of reindeer with sledges tied one behind another; a bagje-olmaj is a mountain Sámi; suonak are the sinew cords that lash the load into the sledge, and nuvta is "without care, without more ado" (the 1887 dictionary adds "merely, just"), so the man lays the fox under them "just as he was"; stærdot is to grow stiff, of frozen or dead things; the vuotta-rajpe is the draught-rope by which the reindeer draws the sledge; muot'-albme is snowy weather and borga driving snow; a galdo is a well or spring; bâjkat is to void dung; gajketet is to tear off suddenly; bætataddat or bætatallat is to be deceived or betrayed; goaccalastet, the tail's word, the glossary gives as to steer by trailing, as with a ski-staff, and the 1887 dictionary as to hold back, to check in its course, so the tail says "I hold back"; væđđa are the finer roots; a girje-čajtne is a spotted woodpecker, and girjotallat to make speckled; rjeppo-galës is "old fox"; a havde is a pit, bæsodak a withy, čuolda a stake, and bikkaš a little tar; I vækjet! is "it can't be helped"; hærvatet is to adorn, and gasket to gnaw; skillat is to clink; a hærge is a gelded draught-reindeer, a varek a bull two winters old, a vuovirs one three winters old, and an aldo a reindeer cow; gaʒʒe is a company or crowd; the slaughterers are gumpe, wolf, gætke, wolverine, buojda, stoat, sapan, field mouse, njala, arctic fox, dæččalaggës, lizard, guovde, snake, and cuobbo, frog; oalol-dafte is the jawbone and ađa marrow; fakka or vakka is the back of an animal's thigh; niske is the nape, and daŋŋal-suodna a sinew in a reindeer's nape; čodda is the throat and gekkir the windpipe, and madda, the foot of a tree-trunk, is used for the root of the throat, the windpipe and the ear; gaʒʒa-halse is the cleft between a reindeer's hooves (the 1887 dictionary gives sapan-njuolla as a tip of hair that stands out between the hooves of a flayed reindeer leg); duotka the glossary gives as a gut (the 1887 dictionary as what the gut holds) and čoalle also as a gut, and the English says "gut" and "bowel"; morǯe is the fat about the heart; guomo-čoavje is the paunch with its half-digested food, dojdet to rinse, and vuoššat to cook; a vuogja-njalmaš-buojda is a stoat greasy about the mouth; the fagge is the wooden hook on which the pot hangs over the fire; čapodet is to turn black and vilgodet to turn white; hoavrestet is to prattle and insist; the fish are havga, pike, njaka, burbot, harre, grayling, vuosko, perch, ravdo, char, gudjor, a kind of trout, and luossa, salmon; a čorro-čielge is a sharp ridge of a back, and a soađes-čielge a spiny one; a bassem-muorra is a roasting-spit, and snjirajdet to crackle; a soatte-vækka, by the 1887 dictionary, is an army; luojkat is to lend; sokka is kin, and suppe the aspen. Several readings rest on context. Julginës, to whom the fox speaks under the pine root, is read as "to his feet" (juölge, foot). The bear's question Gost don daid? has no verb; Friis's glossary, under Læt, quotes it with one, gost don daid legjik?, "where have you (got) them?". Sagjasad is read as "to your place" (sagje, place). Njalagis, which neither dictionary gives in that form, is read as the arctic fox, from the list of helpers and the name njala-njuolan. Im maj mon læǯa is read with læǯa as a potential form of læt, "be", which keeps a hedge: "It can hardly have been me". Dabelida is "a little nearer" (the 1887 dictionary, under Dabeli: nærmere hid). Sogas(t) sokki is "from kin to kin" (the 1887 dictionary, under Sokka: sogast sokki, fra Slægt til Slægt); Friis's own words in brackets after it are kept in brackets. The tail's answer and the cry "Get out! Get out!" stand in one quotation in the Sámi, which does not mark who says the last words, and the English keeps them together. When the fox looks at the salmon on the spit, the Sámi has him speak of "his little fish", and so does the English. The Sámi word son does not mark whether a person or creature is male or female; the English calls the fox and the bear "he", and the smaller creatures and the aspen "it".
Andrew Lang printed an English retelling of the first part of this tale (the fox who plays dead on the sledge, the bear's tail frozen into the ice, and the fox's questions to his foot, ear, nose and tail), joined to another fox story, as "The Fox and the Lapp" in The Brown Fairy Book (1904), from the German of Lappländische Märchen; the English here is translated from Friis's Sámi.
No complete English translation of Friis's collection is known to us.
© 2026 Tianmu Anglican Church. This English translation is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0: you may share and adapt it for non-commercial use with credit to the Good Works Library, tianmu.org. The source text keeps its own terms. For other uses, see Rights and Reuse.
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Source Text: Rjevan ja guofča
North Sámi text as printed by Friis (1856), pp. 6, 8, 10, 12 and 14, in his orthography, with Friis's correction for p. 10 applied; line-end hyphens are joined. Friis's two paragraphs are divided here at the same places as the English.
Go rjevan muttomin læi jottemen ja bođi gærës-rattai, de jurdašišgođi son: „Maggar son mon ječčam jabmen dagam?“ — ja de son dagai ječas jabmen gærës-luod' ala. De bođi bagje-olmaj rajdoin ja oajdna rjevvan jabmam gærës-luod' ala. De valdi son ja doalvoi maŋŋemuš gærres ala — ja dat læi guölle-gærës — ja bigjali (su) suonaki vuöllai nuvta.
Rjevan dagai ječas jabmen, ja sust juölgek legje stærdom; mutto go olmaj fastajn vuögjai, de ælaski rjevan, gäski vuotta-rajpe rasta, — ja de baci gærës. De dagai muot'-alme. De dat olmuš, goas fuomaši, sust gærës javkam læ, de vulgi son occat; mutto borga luoda valdi, ja almin i son æmbo gavdnam dam gærres.
De rjevan valdi gulid ja vulgi guöddet. De guofča gavnai rjevvan guöddemen daid gulid, ja go bođi rjevvan guovdo, de jærra: „Gost don daid?“ „Albma-olbmu galdoi bigjim sæjbam ja guölek darvanegje dasa,“ maid rjevan dajai. — „Ikgo muge sæjbai gulid darvet?“ — „Ik don gilla dam, maid mon læm gillam!“ — Voj, voj, imgo mon duom gilla!“ — „No, bija donge sæjbad albma-olbmu galdoi!“
De valdi rjevan ja doalvoi su dokko dam galdo lusa ja dajai: „Da' læ dat galdo, gost mon gulid oggum!“ De hojgai guofča sæjbes dokko dam čacce-galdo sisa. De ješ jottal rjevan dast birra, dassači go guovčast sæjbe galbmo galdo sisa. Dego son diđi dam, atte guovčast sæjbe læi galbmom saggarak, de čuorvogođi rjevan: „Boattet, albma-olbmuk, bissoi ja sajti gujm, guofča din galdoi bâjka!“
De albma-olbmuk botte bissoi ja sajti gujm, ja go guofča gulai dam, de njujki bajas ja gajketi sæjbes rasta; mutto rjevan ruottasti mæccai ja čaŋai guddo vuöllai. Dagja julginës: „Maid don, juölgam, dagak munja, go bætatadam?“ — „Hoapost ruotam!“ — „Maid don njunnam dagak, go mon bætatalam?“ — „Gukkjën havsam!“ — „Maid don bælljam dagak, go bætatalam?“ — „Gukkjën gulam!“ — „Maid don sæjbam dagak, go mon bætatadam?“ — „Goaccalastam, mana olgus! mana olgus!“
De bođi guofča dasa ja rappogođi væđđaid. Vimag de fatti guofča sæjbai, balkesti rjevvan sælges ala ja manai daina. Bođiga coakke-maddag ragjai ja ojniga, girje čajtne čuoggo muora. Dagja rjevan okto äldsis: „Buörrebuš ajgačak legje dälle, goas mon duojd ucca čabba loddačid girjotällim!“ Guofča jærrali: „Maid, rjeppo-galës, dajak?“ Rjevan celki: „Guödde, guödde borram-sagjasad ja bora!“
De ajn mannab ja bođiga nubbe čajtne guovdo. Dagja fast rjevan: „Buörrebuš ajgačak legje dälle, goas mon duojd ucca čabba loddačid girjotällim!“ Guofča dagja: „Ikgo muge (girjotala)?“ „Ik don gilla daid davgoid, maid dasa galgëk! Dasa galgëk havde gojvujuvvut, bæsodagak bodnjujuvvut, čuoldak navlijuvvut, bikkačak coggujuvvut havdai, ja dolla dasa buöllatuvvut.“ Guofča dajai, atte: „I vækjet, jus man stuores læš bargo, galle mon bargam buok daid bargoid,“ ja de bargagođi.
Dego guofča gærgai bargamest, de čanai rjevan guovča gidda bæsodagai gujm havde gurri, ja go dat havde læi burist buöllam, de manai rjevan bæsodagaid gasket. Guofča gaddi (atte rjevan læi) su sælge dalle hærvatæmen, — jesgo son læmaš bæsodagaid gaskemen — ja dajai: „Hajtis, hajtis, rjeppo-galës!“ De rjevan celki: „Dittim mon jo, ik don gilla daid davgoid, maid dat ucca loddaš gillai.“ De guofča celki: „Gillam, gillam!“ — sust guolgak legje jo buöllegoattam.
Ja dego rjevan sati buok gasket, de hojgadi havdai guovča, ruottasti ješ mæccai ja oroi dobbe, dassači go arvedi, dal læ jo buok buöllam ja čoskum. De bođi son dasa ruoktod sækain ja čoggi davtid visso vissut, ja de vulgi. De bođi albma-olbmu guovdo, ja de sluvgali sækas, vaj davtek skillek. De gulai albma-olmuš (ja jurdaši) atte: „Æigo čuogjagoattam dobbe dego gollek ja silbak?“
Jærra albma-olmuš: „Mak dust dak?“ — „Aččam ja ædnam arbe!“ — „Ikgo munja daid (vuövde)?“ — „Im mon, oudal go munja duom hærgaš ja duom varekaš ja vuövirsaš ja duom aldoš læk vuövdam.“ Loppedi olmuš: „Oaǯok galle!“ Mutto rjevan dajai: „Go mon lonotam dudnji dam sæka, de ik galga galle oudal gæččat, go viđa, guđa varaš duökkai læk bæssam. Dego oudal gæčačak, de šäddëk buöllam davtačën.“
De gavpašeiga dajhe lonotalaiga. Albma-olmuš dam sæka valdi, ja rjevan boccuid, ja de vulgiga guabbag guvlui, rjevan boccui gujm ja albma-olmuš silba-sækain. De rjevan vekid äldsis oǯodi njuovvat daid boccuid. De čuorvoi (čoakkai) guovčaid, gumpid, getkid, buojdagid, sapanid, njalaid, dæččalagga, guovde ja cubbu. De bačališgotte dajhe goddegotte vækkjën sunji daid boccuid.
Bači guofča oalol-davte sisa. De damditti læ oalol-davtest ađa, mi vela dal goččujuvvu „guofča-njuolan.“ Bači gumpe fakkai (vakkai), de damditti læ mærka dal hærgest su vakast, dego njuola, mi goččujuvvu „gumpe-njuolan.“ Gætke bači niskai, de damditti læ hærgest gætke-njuola mærka niskast (daŋŋal-suodna). Buojda bači čodda-maddagi, de damditti læ buojdag mærka gekkir-maddagëst.
Sapan gaʒʒa-halsai bači, de damditti læ su mærka, „sapan-njuola,“ gaʒʒa-halsest. Dæččalaggës njuolasti dutki, de damditti læ su njuola duotkast. De njalagis bači bællje-maddagi, de damditti læ bællje-maddagëst, maŋŋa-bællai, ucca davtaš, mi goččujuvvu „njala-njuolan.“ Guovde bači čollusi, mi læ duotkast gidda, damditti læ čollu sist mærka, mi goččujuvvu „guovde-njuolan.“ De cuobbo bači vajbmo-morǯai, damditti læ vajbmo-morǯe ja vajmo gaskast ucca davtaš, mi goččujuvvu „cubbu-njuolan.“
De goddašegje buok boccuid. Dagja rjevan: „De mon galgam mannat guomo-čoavje dojdet.“ De valdi guomo-čoavje ja manai gæđge duökkai, ja de hujkogođi, dego olbmuk lifči fattim su gidda; de gulle dok dam jena ja ballastädde buokak, guttege guvlui. De baci rjevan ješ okto dasa vuošadet.
De bođi albma-olmuš, dat, gæn son fillim læi ja dagja: „Maid dal dagak? manne muo gielestik, vaj buöllam davtid galgik munja vuövdet? ja manne læk njuovadam buok boccuid?“ „Im maj mon læǯa, vielljam, gaʒʒe njuovadegje!“ Dego dat olmuš ajcai muttom vuogja-njalmaš-buojdag njujkodæmen birra, de doppi son fagge, čäski faggin buoidag, ige dæjvam ječa go sæjbe-gæče, ja de čapodi sæjbe-gæčče.
Rjevan ruottasti mæccai ja bođi jokka-gaddai albma-olbmu lusa, go albma-olmuš læi garba divvomen. Dagja rjevan: „Vare monge duom garbaš divvodet!“ Dagja albma-olmuš: „Dego ik hejtiš eriti hoavrestæmest, mon doppim ja balkestam dom čacce-gæđgaš ala!“ Ajn dagja rjevan: „Vare mon duom garbaš divvodet!“ De doppi albma-olmuš ja balkesti čacce-gæđgaš ala.
Rjevan čuorvogođi: „Guölek, boattet mu suvdet gaddai!“ De botte guölek. Bođi havga. Dagja rjevan: „Im mon du duolba sælgaš ala (čokkan)!“ Bođi njaka. — „Im mon du njivle čuomaš ala!“ Bođi harre. — „Im mon du čorro-čielgaš ala!“ Bođi vuosko (vuskon). — „Im mon du soađes-sælgaš ala!“ Bođi ravdo. — „Lifčik maj donge, mutto ik donge dokke!“ Bođi gudjor. — „Lifčik maj donge, mutto ik donge dokke!“
Bođi luossa. — „De don galle (dokkik)! Boattelaste dabelida, amam juölgam gastadet!“ Ja go luossa lâkkâni su baldi, de rippasti rjevan luosa gaddai, naketi bassem-muor' gæččai ja dola buöllati. De snjirrajdišgođi. Dagja rjevan okto äldsis: „Soatte-vækka dal de boatta!“ gæčasti guöllasis, „igo su guölaš snjierajd!“ doppi ja spajkasti gæđge vuösta, — ja de boldi čalmides.
De vulgi čalme taga jottet. Bođi coage lusa ja jærra coagest: „Lækgo dust ovtakge ligge čalmačak?“ — „Æi ovtakge!“ Bođi bæce lusa, luojkatadda bæcest: „Lækgo čalmek dust?“ — „Æi must læk ovtakge!“ Bođi suvve lusa, jærra suvvest: „Lækgo dust ovtakge ligge čalmačak?“ — „Læk ovtak, im fal gukkas luojka, äjdo oanekassi.“
Rjevan dagja: „Ik don galga gukkas luojkat, duom dieva duökken læk must čalmek.“ De oaǯoi čalmid ja de ruottasti ja dajai: „Sogas(t) sokki (læm mon oǯǯom suvve čalmid)!“ Damditti læk suvvest dego buöllam čalmek, go lonoti čalmides rjevvani. De suppe suttedi ja spajkasti rjevvan; — i oletam æmbo, äjdo sæjbe-gæče, ja de vilgodi sæjbe-gæčče dušše.
Source Colophon
J. A. Friis (ed.), Lappiske Sprogprøver (Christiania: J. W. Cappelen, 1856), pp. 6, 8, 10, 12 and 14, with Friis's correction for p. 10 from his list of misprints; the facing pages carry Friis's Norwegian translation, which is not reproduced here. Public domain. Transcribed from the page images of the New York Public Library copy, digitized by Google (Internet Archive identifier lappiskesprogpr00friigoog); a former owner's handwritten marks in that copy are not part of the text. Friis's letters are kept as printed, including â, ä, ö, ë, č, đ, š, ŋ, and both ʒ and ǯ, which he distinguishes.
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