"Yes, Uncle Sam."
"Iceland lies about half-way between Europe and America, but it is much farther north than we are. The Norsemen who came upon it by accident, called it Snowland."
"I think that is a pretty name. I wish it were called Snowland, now," said Lucy, half to herself.
"Yes, it is a pretty name," said Uncle Sam. Then he went on.
"The one who first saw Iceland did not remain there. He went back to Norway. Four years later, another Norseman was driven to the coast of Iceland by a storm. Before he left it, he sailed all around its shores and found it was an island.
"When he got home again, he said it was such a pleasant place that another daring Viking decided to go to Iceland to live. He carried seeds for planting and cattle to furnish milk and meat. He stayed there all one winter. It was so cold that the poor cattle died.
"When spring came, the Norseman made ready to plant his seeds, but the land was still covered with ice. 'This is not a fit place for anyone to live,' he cried. He once more packed his goods on his ship and sailed for Norway.
"That, however, was not the end of the white men's life in Iceland. Ten years after that another band of Norsemen went there and settled. They lived in peace and comfort. Children were born and grew up in that cold island of the north. They were carefully taught by their parents and became wise men and women. This settlement in Iceland lasted for hundreds of years.