Da is Lap or Finnish; and Dana Da was neither Finn, Chin, Bhil...

When it was in thorough working order, with all the machinery down to the subscriptions complete, Dana Da came from nowhere, with nothing in his hands, and wrote a chapter in its history which has hitherto been unpublished. He said that his first name was Dana, and his second was Da. Now, setting aside Dana of the New York Sun, Dana is a Bhil name, and Da fits no native of India unless you accept the Bengali Dé as the original spelling. Da is Lap or Finnish; and Dana Da was neither Finn, Chin, Bhil, Bengali, Lap, Nair, Gond, Romaney, Magh, Bokhariot, Kurd, Armenian, Levantine, Jew, Persian, Punjabi, Madrasi, Parsee, nor anything else known to ethnologists. He was simply Dana Da, and declined to give further information. For the sake of brevity, and as roughly indicating his origin, he was called "The Native." He might have been the original Old Man of the Mountains, who is said to be the only authorized head of the Teacup Creed. Some people said that he was; but Dana Da used to smile and deny any connection with the cult; explaining that he was an "independent experimenter."

As I have said, he came from nowhere, with his hands behind his back, and studied the creed for three weeks; sitting at the feet of those best competent to explain its mysteries. Then he laughed aloud and went away, but the laugh might have been either of devotion or derision.

The Lock and Key Library by Egerton Castle et al.

A third from the Finland provinces

It has been already said that Russians of all conditions had found a place on the raft. Indeed, to the poor moujiks, the women, old men, and children, were joined two or three pilgrims, surprised on their journey by the invasion; a few monks, and a priest. The pilgrims carried a staff, a gourd hung at the belt, and they chanted psalms in a plaintive voice: one came from the Ukraine, another from the Yellow sea, and a third from the Finland provinces. This last, who was an aged man, carried at his waist a little padlocked collecting-box, as if it had been hung at a church door. Of all that he collected during his long and fatiguing pilgrimage, nothing was for himself; he did not even possess the key of the box, which would only be opened on his return.

Michael Strogoff by Jules Verne

A Finlander, Olaf Neilsen

When they reached the beach the wagon track led through a hedge of barberry bushes to a shed covered with pine boughs at the back of the fisherman's house.

The fisherman himself came out to help them with the horses. He was a Finlander, Olaf Neilsen, who kept boats in summer, fished, and tended two buoy lights at the river entrance for a living. His hut stood on a point, with the sandy beach of the bay in front of it, and the steeper bank where the river ran on the left. All the time the water was rushing out, out, out of the river and creeping down on the sand to make low tide.

The children did not know it then, but they were to spend many happy days on this beach, in company with their uncle and Olaf, during the next two years.

Mabel Osgood Wright and Elliott Coues: Citizen Bird

I don't think Satan himself would ask a better parentage

"But Onslow plays well," said another.

"When he's in luck, sir," said the Colonel. "Let him always have the winning horse to ride, and I don't say he 'll lose the saddle; but Maraffi would win on a donkey."

 "Is he a Russian?" asked one.

"No, sir, he 's worse; he 's a Greek. I know everything about him. His mother was a Finlander, and the father a Cephalonian. I don't think Satan himself would ask a better parentage."

Charles James Levez: The Daltons, Volume I (of II) Or, Three Roads In Life

Broomberg, the Finlander

Now, Staysail was always a good laugher, but at this tale he fairly yelled with laughter until everything jingled in the cabin, and the tears ran down his cheeks.

The mate never moved a muscle.

"That awful fore-cabin, sir!" he said. "It's in there, and Broomberg, the Finlander, declares that if you don't land him and his mates at Bergen they'll seize the ship and sail for Aberdeen."

"But why on earth don't you open the fore-cabin?"

"Oh, that's where it is, sir! The key is lost, or else the professor has it."

Gordon Stables: Crusoes of the Frozen North

A roomy, clean, Finnish hut

Vronsky was staying in a roomy, clean, Finnish hut, divided into two by a partition. Petritsky lived with him in camp too. Petritsky was asleep when Vronsky and Yashvin came into the hut.

"Get up, don't go on sleeping," said Yashvin, going behind the partition and giving Petritsky, who was lying with ruffled hair and with his nose in the pillow, a prod on the shoulder.

Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

Sergeant Jon Svartberg, of the first regiment of Finland horse,

And the worthy man gently ascended the little eminence. One half of the huge oak still stood erect, surmounted by rich green foliage—the other moiety had been riven away by the lightning's power—and the whole interior of the tree was exposed to view like an open cupboard. It was melancholy to behold this forest monarch thus rent and overthrown, his verdant crown defaced and trailing in the dust. But this reflection found no place in the minds of either clergyman or student—their attention was engrossed by a variety of objects that lay in a confused heap in the cavity of the oak. Upon near examination these proved to consist of the remains of a human skeleton, which, to judge from the position of the bones, must have stood upright in the tree, its arms extended upwards. A pair of large iron spurs, several nails and brass buckles, a long sword, nearly consumed by rust, pieces of iron and brass belonging to a dragoon's helmet, some coins of the reign of Charles Gustavus, and finally a broad gold finger-ring, were also discovered. Upon the last the initials J. S. were plainly legible; and on the hilt of the sword, as on some of the fragments of metal, were the letters F.R.F.D., standing for First Regiment Finland Dragoons.

CHRISTIAN WINTHER: THE HORSE-DEALER—A TALE OF DENMARK.

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 64, No.394, August, 1848