the church, and retired late to bed, after having paid a farewell visit to the Logberg, or Hill of Laws.

Next morning I was roused by the sound of voices outside the tent; and on putting my head out I observed Mr. Briggs and the pastor of Thingvalla engaged in an animated Latin conversation.

"Salve, Domine, Dii tibi benefaciant!" began my fat friend. "Diluculo surgere saluberrimum est! Haud nitet sol, hodie, serenus!"

"Nunc quidem adstitit imber, non tamen longa est mora quin nubes fugentur," replied the parson.

To which Mr. Briggs replied, with promptitude, " Quocunque aspicias, nihil est nisi pontus et aër, nubibus hic tumidus, fluctibus ille minax. An voles gustare Brandæum

nostrum Gallicum ?"

"Paululum sine me bibere."

Mr. Briggs then poured out a bumper, and handed it to the priest, who took a draught, but did not finish the tumbler. He put it down, shaking his head, and saying that the brandy was too hot for him.

"Aqua

"Estuosus nonne ?" quoth my portly friend. Brandæum emollit, nec sinit esse ferox. Dignissime pastor! Nunc est bibendum, nunc pede libero pulsanda tellus."

Then offering brandy with one hand and whiskey with the other, he said, "Utrum horum mavis accipe!"

"Gratias tibi, jam satis est potatum."

"Jam satis!" exclaimed Mr. Briggs. "An placeat cum nobis illud modicum prandium, Anglicè breakfastum, sumere? Sis exorabilis, Domine! habeo quæ tibi offeram: frigidam bulletam, carnem vervecinam, caseum Stiltonæum, Fortnumi Masonique jusculum ex caudis boum extractum, succi plenum. Siste, reverendissime pater! sume, gusta nostra vegetabilia, pastinacas fabas, potatosque, in parva stannea arcula compressa. Hæc omnia in lebete decocta cupedias faciunt in Magna Britannia hodgepodge dictas, sed Græce lepadotemacho-selacho-galeo-kranio-leipsano, et quæ præterea sciunt Diabolus, Liddellæus Scottusque."

"Gratias plurimas, jam pransus sum," replied the pastor, with a tremulous curl of the lip.

Quæso, Domine !" continued Mr. Briggs, nothing abashed; "intra tentorium, conspice nostram tam exiguam, tam fragilem domum! intra, precor!"

Then, finding us all in bed as he drew back the door-flap, Mr. Briggs pointed at us derisively, and said—“ Implentur veteris Bacchi, pinguisque ferinæ !"

The pastor was persistent in his refusal of the proffered breakfast; I think that the enumeration of victuals had somewhat alarmed him, and possibly he fancied that the extraordinary compounds which suited an English stomach might disagree with that of an Icelander.

Whilst I was dressing I heard snatches of conversation between my friend and the parson, and was highly amused at the fragmentary character of Mr. Briggs's observations, ranging from statements of facts in natural history, such as "Hippopotamus bellua in Nilo habitat," and "In summis montibus tantum est frigus ut nix ibi nunquam liquescat," to matters of theological importance, such as, "Pii orant taciti," and "Vilius argentum est auro, virtutibus aurum, i. e. quam aurum, quam virtutes sunt."

At last Mr. Briggs having exhausted every other topic, plunged into an animated defence of Balbus. The priest, apologizing for his ignorance, asked who that worthy

was.

"Nescis Balbum!" exclaimed Mr. Briggs, in amazement; "nescis Balbum, qui Caium accusavit, qui murum ædificabat! Balbum, qui nec domi nec militiæ mecum fuit; qui quum manus in aquam immersisset, abiit; qui omnem occasionem exercendæ virtutis arripiebat, et barbaram consuetudinem immolandorum hominum retinuit, et patriam auro vendidit; qui cum gallinis cubitum it vesperi! Balbum qui prælio interfuit, qui viribus fretus vincula carceris rupit, et oves totondit non deglupsit! Si Balbum nescis, omnia nescis!"

The Yankee was much astonished at this display of learning on the part of Mr. Briggs. I was malicious enough to

tell my portly friend that his observation had been familiar to me for many years.

"That may be," answered he, laughing; "but, as neither the Eton Latin Grammar, nor Henry's First Latin Book—the only classic works with which I have the least acquaintanceare likely to have found their way into Iceland, I have not the smallest doubt that all my remarks appeared to the priest to be fraught with singular originality."

As a change we returned to Reykjavík by Seljadalr instead of by Mósfell. The landscape was dressed now in very different colours from those in which it had appeared on our ride to Thingvöllum. Then, all was dull under a clouded night sky; now the heavens were bright and blue; the lake twinkled in the sun; the mountains were bathed in light; and all was fair and goodly except the eastern sky, over which hung a lurid red cloud rising far up into the blue vault, and creeping stealthily over the face of the country, blotting out the landscape. This proceeded from sand raised in whirlwinds, as we had seen from Ók. These sand columns had risen daily whilst we were at Geysir, and had caused us considerable annoyance, for the air was so thickly impregnated with dust that the particles were for ever entering and clogging our eyes, ears, and mouths. The sand was carried as far as to Reykjavík, a distance of over fifty miles, and was there collected, and pronounced to be volcanic ash erupted from Skapta or Trölladyngja.

That such was not the case I am positive, as the sky to the east and south-east of the district whence rose these sand columns was perfectly clear.

We baited at Seljadalr, a small vale full of humps of coarse grass, and dwarf willow. The flies were intolerable. Multitudes of black loathsome hunch-backed little fellows swarmed around us, irritating the horses, and driving the riders into a furious state of temper with themselves and each other.

I was provided with a green butterfly-net, into which I forthwith thrust my head: this afforded but a momentary

relief, as the horrible creatures, after buzzing round it and taking cognizance of its weak points, perched on my coat, crept in under the folds of the gauze, and I had a dozen buz-buz-buzzing in the bag along with my head. Another lot settled on my boots, and proceeded in exploring parties up my legs, whilst a third set promenaded along my arms tickling me horribly with their proboscises.

It gave us inexpressible relief when we emerged from Seljadalr, and the fresh wind freed us from our tormentors. Iceland is cursed with the plague of flies; in summer the banks of rivers, the shores of lakes, the meadows and morasses are alive with countless swarms, gathering so thick that, without exaggeration, it is hardly possible for one to see the rest of one's caravan a few yards off. At Myvatn the men wear a peculiar cap shaped like a bassinet, to protect their heads and necks from them. The cap is made of black cloth, it covers the shoulders and back, is tight round the throat, tight round every part of the head except immediately over the eyes, nose, and mouth, where a lappet is cut which can either be turned down to cover the face completely, or be erected, very much like a vizor. On a cloudy or windy day the flies do not appear, they lie under the blaeberry leaves, or cluster in lava fissures; but the moment the sun comes out, the air is black with them.

Seljadalr is an interesting spot to the geologist, as the stream which flows through it has torn itself a way through the rock, and laid bare a section of palagonite tuff resting on a bed of volcanic cinder, through which a mass of basaltic lava has been protruded, partially fusing the ash in contact with it. The depth of the cutting is from fifty to seventy feet, and the stream at the bottom prattles over fragments of tuff and basalt confusedly mingled together. Three or four varieties of willow grow in Seljadalr, the most common of which is the round-leaved Salix caprea.

We passed a lone tarn girt in by bare hill-sides, with a few reeds growing around the marge, but did not draw rein till we reached a byre, where haymaking was going on.

Here we rested for a few minutes and drank milk. A bowl of the size of an ordinary wash-hand basin was brought out full of milk. Mr. Briggs very nearly emptied it, and it was twice replenished for the rest of us.

During our milk-drinking, rapturous bursts of "A houri! a tinted Venus! a valkyrie!" from my fat friend made me look round.

I saw that he was lounging over the tún enclosure with his opera glasses directed towards the haymakers. One of those so engaged had attracted his attention; she was a pretty girl with golden hair flying loose in the wind from beneath her berretta-like cap, which was put jauntily on one side, with the long silk tassel passed through a silver ring, and dangling against her cheek.

"Would that I were that tassel," murmured Mr. Briggs. Like most Icelandic maidens, she was tall, and slim as a willow wand; her face was fresh and bright with colour; her. moon-like eyes blue as the neighbouring tarn. She was dressed in a black skirt, her jacket was off, and she wore a white bodice; her neck and arms were bare, the former with only a little dark green handkerchief knotted round it. When her sunny hair fell over her face, she tossed it aside, swept the yellow strands off her forehead, and brushed it behind her ears with her fingers in a most bewitching manner. Impassioned glances were cast through the opera glasses by my stout companion, but they either missed their mark, or else the damsel was invulnerable. Mr. Briggs began to consider whether he had not got some treasures of handkerchiefs at the bottom of his box, which he might draw forth and present to the fair maid, but Gúthmundr protested that it would take half an hour at the least to unpack the box, and that we ought to be on the move, if we hoped to reach Reykjavík before midnight. I very much doubt whether we should have got Mr. Briggs away had not the houri of her own accord dispelled the glamour flung over him. Her mouth opened. A thrill ran through the frame of Mr. Briggs as he saw her ranges of teeth white as the crests of Eyjafjalla.