AN ICELANDER IN SCOTLAND.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume IV, Issue 189, 10 November 1876, Page 8

AN ICELANDER IN SCOTLAND.

By Bayabd Tatlok,

One night, when Jon awolre, he missed the iisual sound of waves against the vessel's side and the cries of the sailors on deck — everything seemed strangely quiet ; but he was too good a sleeper to puzzle his head about it, so merely turned over on his pillow. When he aTose the quiet was still there. He dressed in haste and went on deck. The yacht lay at anchor in front of buildings larger than a hundred Rejkiaviks put together. "This is Leith," said Mr. Lome, coming up to him. " Leith ?" Jen exclaimed ; "it seems like Home or Jerusalem ! Those must bo the king's palaces." " No, my boy," Mr. Lome answered, " they are only warehouses."

"But what are those queer green hills behind the houses? They are so steep and round that I don't see how anybody could climb up."

" Hills ?" exclaimed Mr. Lome. " Oh, 1 see now ! Why, Jon, those are trees."

Jon was silpnt. He dared not doubt; his friend's word, but he could not yet wholly believe it. When they had landed, and he saw the great trunks, the spreading boughs, and the millions of green leaves, such a feeling of awe and admiration came over him that he began to tremble. A wind was blowing, and the long, flexible boughs of the elms swayed up and down. "Oh, Mr. Lome !" he cried. "See! they are praying! Let us wait awhile ; they are saying something — I hear their voices. It is English ? — can yoix understand it?" Mr. Lome took him by the hand, and said, " It is praise, not prayer. They speak the same language all over the world, but no one can understand all they say." There is one rough little cart in Uejkiavik, and that is the only vehicle in Iceland. What, then, must have been Jon's feeling's when he saw hundreds of elegant carriages dashing to and fro, and great waggons drawn by giant horses ? When they got into a cab, it seemed to him like sitting on a moving tbrone. He had read and heard of all these things, and thought he had a clear idea of what they were ; but he was not prepared for the reality. He was so excited, as they drove up the long street to Edinburgh, that Mr. Lome, sitting beside him, could feel the beating of his heart. The new wonders never cea-sed ; there was an apple tree, with fruit ; rose bushes in bloom; whole beds of geraniums in the little gardens ; windows filled with fruit, or brilliant silks, or silver-ware ; towers that seemed to touch the clouds, and endless multitudes of people ! As they reached the hotel, all he could say, in a faltering voice, was -. " Poor old Iceland ! "

The next day they took the train for Lanark, in the neighborhood of which Mr. Lome had an estate. When Jon saw the bare heather-covered mountains, and the swift brooks that came leaping down their glens, he laughed and said: ° " Oh, you have a little Iceland even here ! If there were trees along the Thiorva, it would look like yonder valley." " I have some moorland of my own," Mr. Lome remarked • "and if you ever get to be homesick, I'll send you out upon it v to recover.

But when Jon reached the house, and was so cordially welcomed by Mrs. Lome, and saw the park and gardens where he hoped to become familiar with trees and flowers, he thought there would be as much likelihood of being homesick in heaven as in such a ulace — 'St. Nicholas' for March.