They are also remarkable for their laziness.  There are many ample stretches of meadow-land at a short distance from the coast, completely covered with bog, and passable only with great precautions, which the construction of a few ditches would thoroughly drain.  Capital grass would then spring up in abundant crops.  It is well known that such will grow in Iceland, for the hillocks which rise above the swamps are luxuriantly overgrown with herbage and wild clover.  The best soil is found, it is said, on the north side of the island, where potatoes grow very well, and also a few trees—­which, however, do not exceed seven or eight feet in height.  The chief occupation of the northerners is cattle-breeding, particularly in the interior, where some of the farmers own three or four hundred sheep, ten or fifteen cows, and a dozen horses.  These, it is true, are exceptional cases; but, as a rule, the population here are in much better circumstances than the wretched coast-population, who chiefly rely on the products of their fisheries.

* * * * *

From Iceland Madame Pfeiffer embarked for Copenhagen on the 29th of July, in the sloop Haabet (the “Hope"), which proved by no means a vessel of luxurious accommodation.  Our resolute voyager gives an amusing account of her trials.  The fare, for instance, was better adapted for a hermit than for a lady of gentle nurture; but it was sublimely impartial, being exactly the same for captain, mate, crew, and passengers.  For breakfast they had wretched tea,—­or rather, dirty tea-coloured water,—­which the common hands drank without any sugar.  The officers made use of a small lump of candy, holding it in their mouths, where it melted slowly, while they swallowed cup after cup to moisten the hard ship-biscuit and rancid butter.

The dinners, however, showed a daily variation.  First, a piece of salted meat, which, having been soaked and boiled in sea-water, was so intolerably hard, tough, and salt that it required the digestion of an ostrich to overtake it.  Instead of soup, vegetables, or dessert, barley grits were served up, plainly boiled, without salt or butter, and eaten with syrup and vinegar.  On the second day, the piece de resistance was a lump of bacon, boiled in salt water; this was followed by the barley grits.  On the third day, cod-fish and pease; on the fourth, the same bill of fare as on the first; and so on,—­a cup of coffee, without milk, closing the noonday meal.  The evening’s repast resembled that of the morning, consisting of tea-water and ship-biscuit.

So much for the fare.  As to the “table appointments,” they were miserably meagre.  The cloth was a piece of an old sail, so soiled and dirty that it effectually deprived Madame Pfeiffer and her fellow-passengers of any small appetite with which they might have sat down to dinner.  Madame Pfeiffer began to think that it would be better to have no cloth at all.  She was mistaken!