filth go
hand in hand.

[Illustration: CHURCH AT REYKJAVIK.]

The women are really the only class of inhabitants, except the fleas,
who possess any vitality. Rude, slatternly, and ignorant as they are,
they still evince some sign of life and energy compared with the men.
Overtaxed by domestic cares, they go down upon the wharves when a
vessel comes in, and by hard labor earn enough to purchase a few rags
of clothing for their children. The men are too lazy even to carry the
fish out of their own boats. At home they lie about the doors, smoking
and gossiping, and too often drunk. Some are too lazy to get drunk,
and go to sleep over the effort. In truth, the prevailing indolence
among all classes is so striking that one can almost imagine himself
in a Southern clime. There is much about Reykjavik to remind a
Californian traveler of San Diego. The drunken fellows about the
stores, and the racing of horses up and down the streets, under the
stimulus of liquor rather than natural energy, sometimes made me feel
quite at home.

[Illustration: ICELANDERS AT WORK.]

On the morning after my arrival I called to see my young friend
Jonasen, the governor's son, and was most hospitably entertained by
the family. I had a letter of introduction to the governor from the
Minister of the Judiciary at Copenhagen, but thought it unnecessary to
present it. His excellency is a good specimen of the better class of
Icelanders--simple, kind-hearted, and polite. My casual acquaintance
with his son was sufficient to enlist his warmest sympathies. I
thought he would destroy his equilibrium as well as my own by
repeatedly drinking my health and wishing me a hearty welcome to
Iceland. He said he had never seen a Californian before, and seemed
astonished to find that they had noses, mouths, ears, and skins like
other people. In one respect he paid me a practical compliment that I
have rarely enjoyed in the course of my travels--he spoke nearly as
bad French as I did. Now I take it that a man who speaks bad French,
after years of travel on the Continent of Europe, is worthy of some
consideration. He is at least entitled to the distinction of having
well preserved his nationality; and when any foreigner tries to speak
it worse, but doesn't succeed, I can not but regard it as a tribute of
respect.

Young Jonasen, I was glad to see, had gotten over his struggle with
the sardines, and was now in a fair way to enjoy life. His sister,
Miss Jonas