day heard a Spanish word in the
mountains of Wales, and I have no doubt that were I to go to Iceland I
should find Spanish words used there. How can I doubt it; when I reflect
that more than six hundred years ago, one of the words to denote a bad
woman was Spanish. In the oldest of Icelandic domestic Sagas,
Skarphedin, the son of Nial the seer, called Hallgerdr, widow of Gunnar,
a puta--and that word so maddened Hallgerdr that she never rested till
she had brought about his destruction. Now, why this preference
everywhere for Spanish words over those of every other language? I never
heard French words or German words used by Russian mujiks and Turkish
fig-gatherers. I question whether I should find any in Iceland forming
part of the vernacular. I certainly never found a French or even a
German word in an old Icelandic Saga. Why this partiality everywhere for
Spanish words? the question is puzzling; at any rate it puts me out--"

"Yes, it puts me out!" I exclaimed aloud, striking my fist on the table
with a vehemence which caused the good folks to start half up from their
seats. Before they could say anything, however, a vehicle drove up to
the door, and a man getting out came into the room. He had a glazed hat
on his head, and was dressed something like the guard of a mail. He
touched his hat to me, and called for a glass of whiskey. I gave him the
sele of the evening and entered into conversation with him in English.
In the course of discourse I learned that he was the postman, and was
going his rounds in his cart--he was more than respectful to me, he was
fawning and sycophantic. The whiskey was brought, and he stood with the
glass in his hand. Suddenly he began speaking Welsh to the people;
before, however, he had uttered two sentences the woman lifted her hand
with an alarmed air, crying "Hush! he understands." The fellow was
turning me to ridicule. I flung my head back, closed my eyes, opened my
mouth and laughed aloud. The fellow stood aghast; his hand trembled, and
he spilt the greater part of the whiskey upon the ground. At the end of
about half a minute I got up, asked what I had to pay, and on being told
twopence, I put down the money. Then going up to the man I put my right
forefinger very near to his nose, and said "Dwy o iaith dwy o wyneb, two
languages, two faces, friend!" Then after leering at him for a moment I
wished the people of the house good-evening and departed.

Walking rapidly