e lying on the beach; and for a
common bird's egg, 10 to 20 kr. (4d. to 8d.) Of course, when I declined
buying, they reduced their demand, sometimes to less than half the
original sum; but this was certainly not in consequence of their honesty.
The baker in whose house I lodged also experienced the selfishness of
these people. He had engaged a poor labourer to tar his house, who, when
he had half finished his task, heard of other employment. He did not
even take the trouble to ask the baker to excuse him for a few days; he
went away, and did not return to finish the interrupted work for a whole
week. This conduct was the more inexcusable as his children received
bread, and even butter, twice a week from the baker.

I was fortunate enough to experience similar treatment. Herr Knudson had
engaged a guide for me, with whom I was to take my departure in a few
days. But it happened that the magistrate wished also to take a trip,
and sent for my guide. The latter expected to be better paid by him, and
went; he did not come to me to discharge himself, but merely sent me word
on the eve of my departure, that he was ill, and could therefore not go
with me. I could enumerate many more such examples, which do not much
tend to give a high estimate of Icelandic morality.

I consoled myself with the hope of finding simplicity and honesty in the
more retired districts, and therefore anticipated a twofold pleasure from
my journey into the interior. I found many virtues, but unfortunately so
many faults, that I am no longer inclined to exalt the Icelandic peasants
as examples.

The best of their virtues is their honesty. I could leave my baggage
unguarded any where for hours, and never missed the least article, for
they did not even permit their children to touch any thing. In this
point they are so conscientious, that if a peasant comes from a distance,
and wishes to rest in a cottage, he never fails to knock at the door,
even if it is open. If no one calls "come in," he does not enter. One
might fearlessly sleep with open doors.

Crimes are of such rare occurrence here, that the prison of Reikjavik was
changed into a dwelling-house for the chief warden many years since.
Small crimes are punished summarily, either in Reikjavik or at the seat
of the Sysselmann. Criminals of a deeper dye are sent to Copenhagen, and
are sentenced and punished there.

My landlord at Reikjavik, the master-baker Bernhoft, told me that only