The bedrooms to which we were assigned were models of neatness and comfort. The eiderdown coverlets, everpresent, were encased in dainty slips and the sheets were artistically embroidered. Embroidery is a pastime on the farms and the industry of girls as well as the women has produced many beautiful pieces that would be given places of honor in the American guest room. Spinning, weaving, knitting are thriving arts in Icelandic homes. The mill and dry goods stores have not driven these delightful occupations from the homes. Delightful? Yes. When labor is performed because of the joy it affords the laborer, then the product is not only useful but it becomes a work of art. William Morris said, “Art is the expression of a man’s joy in his work.” These Icelandic works of art are made for the use of generations. They are not items of common occurrence in the dry goods store, purchased to-day, worn out to-morrow or thrown aside because your neighbor has found a different pattern. Being individual work, no two are alike. Each works into the fabric her own design and with the stitches go thought, care, accuracy and the result is art. No better attraction could be placed in the show window of our linen merchants than some of these tastefully embroidered pillowslips, table covers or other fancy work.
The quality of the hospitality in these Icelandic homes is such as to make the stranger feel as if he were at home and it is all done so quietly and without any display. It is simply natural. Every where there is perfect safety, on the long trail, in the village or on the lonely farm. All one has he may leave exposed in the sheds for days without fear of its being disturbed. Honesty is bred in the race. It is refreshing to have no use for locks and to know that one can not lose anything unless he deliberately casts it into a rift. Whatever one leaves behind him will be forwarded and as Ólafur once said,—
“It is a matter of great pride if an Icelander finds anything to be able to return it to the owner and he will make every effort to do this.”
The people deal honestly with each other and with the stranger. In former days it was customary to entertain the traveller over night and accept no payment. It is not so now and it is better as it is. Supplies must be carried many days over mountains, across the rivers and always on the backs of the ponies so that they are expensive. The Icelanders are not rich, though many of them are quite comfortably situated, as is the farmer at Hruni. Still, it is not right to take of their substance simply because they feel it in their hearts to give it. In spite of the payment for the lodging and the food, the traveller will always depart knowing that he has received kindness, comfort and thoughtfulness for which he can not pay.
The people are quiet in demeanor, often reserved before strangers, but they are not morose and despondent as some writers have stated. They thoroughly enjoy a good time, laugh and joke with the wittiest of people, are fond of singing and have excellent voices. The tone of the voice is soft, refined and pleasant to the ear. There are no dialects. They speak as did their ancestors of twelve centuries ago and the accounts of these people in their ancient Sagas in the main are true to day. Bad manners in children I have never seen: in politeness they are models of a high order. They are the children we have read about, those “that are seen and not heard.” It is worth a cake of chocolate at any time just to see the face of the child light up and have him shyly present his hand to the giver in genuine gratitude. They are affectionate, obedient and watchful for the welfare of the parents in their childish way. Often have I seen a girl of ten or twelve wait upon the table, while the remainder of the family were eating, quietly attending to all the duties at the right time without a word of direction and doing it as well as a maid trained in the service.
Outside of Reykjavik, throughout the country the women do not sit down to eat with the men unless a woman is the guest. In all the homes where we stayed, we never had the hostess sit at the table with us but once, but the men often ate with us. This is an ancient custom of the race. When the meal is over the guest rises and shakes hands with the host or hostess and says “thanks for the meal” and the response is, “may it do you good.”
CHAPTER X
HEKLA
“Irregularly huge, august, and high,