The domestic animals on board, were one large, curly-haired, black dog, who rejoiced in the name of "Neeger," and four rather youthful swine, who were confined, or rather were pretended to be confined, in a box. The first day out they leaped the barriers of their stye, and made a dinner on the slender contents of several flower pots that the lady passengers were taking out to cheer the windows of their parlors in their Iceland homes. The discovery of the depredation was any thing but pleasant, and I believe had the "prices of stock" been taken at that time, live pork would have been quoted as falling, and if not clear down, would have been decided to be, on that ship, a thorough bore. Though they went the "whole hog "-the entire animal in the floral line-that day, they did not sleep or feast on roses all the voyage. They did not like their quarters overmuch, and would usually manage at least once a day, to get out and go on an exploring expedition round the deck.

Our living on board was, I believe, as it usually is on Danish merchant vessels. It consisted principally of a thin, watery compound called "soup," of black potatoes, black beef, and yet blacker bread. At the evening meal we had for drink, hot water frightened into a faint color by a gentle infusion of China's favorite plant. This drink our captain called "tea." Believing that good order on shipboard is much promoted by subordination and submission to the commanding officer, I never used to tell him it wasn't "tea."

If strength, however, is a sign of life, I must say that this showed very little sign of vitality. It probably

contained at least half a teaspoonful of tea, to a gallon of water; but Oh! that black bread! it was not so bad an article, though, after all. We had one blacker thing on board, and that was our dog "Nigger." The good boys and girls in America, who eat "Indian bread," "wheat bread," "short cake" and "johnny cake," have all read of the peasants of Europe living on "black bread," and wonder what it is. It is made of rye, ground, but not bolted much, if any; and the bread is very dark, a good deal darker than corn bread. At first I did not like it very well, and at Elsinore I purchased a couple of large wheaten loaves. This bread is very dear: I paid half a dollar a loaf; these lasted me about ten days, but before that time, the mould had struck clear through them. Not so the black bread. That keeps much better than wheaten bread. The mould walks into it gradually however, but thoroughly. At first there appeared a green coat, on the side that stood next to another loaf in baking. This coat of mould kept growing deeper and deeper, getting first the eighth of an inch, then a quarter of an inch, and before the end of the voyage, over half an inch deep of solid green. Inside of this the loaf was moist and fresh; and certainly, after getting used to it, it is very good bread. It was the "staff of life" with us; and considerably like a staff the loaves were, being in size and appearance about like a couple of feet of scantling cut out of the heart of an oak. So much for living on shipboard. If we did not fare like princes, we had the consolation of knowing that the fares we paid were very light. So bad fare and light fares went together; and that

made it all fair.

coast of Iceland.

On the fifteenth day out, we first saw the It was an irregular, rocky promontory, ending in Cape Reykianess, the southwestern extremity of the island. In two days we saw and passed the "Meal sack," (Danish Meel sakken)—a singular rock island about eight miles southwest of Cape Reykianess. While passing I took a drawing of it, and certainly very much like a bag of meal it looks. It is near 200 feet high, and about that in diameter, apparently perpendicular all round; on the north a little more so! All over its craggy sides, we could see thousands of sea-birds. As sunset approached we saw great numbers of gannets flying towards it, going to rest for the night. This bird, known as the solan goose, is larger than a goose, and while flying, from its peculiar color has a most singular appearance. They are white, except the outer half of the wing, the feet, and the bill, which are jet black, and the head a sort of brownish yellow. A word more about these birds, and some others, hereafter. Southwest of the Meal sack a few miles, is another singular island called "the Grenadier." It is a

most striking looking object, standing up out of the ocean. several hundred feet high, like some tall giant or lofty pillar. What a constant screaming of sea fowl there is at all times about these lonely islands! But where is the night in this northern latitude, in the summer season? Ask the lovely twilight that continues for the two or three hours that the sun is below the horizon. At midnight I read a chapter in the Bible, in fine print, with perfect ease. At a distance of several miles I could tell the dividing line

between the rocks and the vegetation on the mountains. And what a splendid panorama of mountain scenery this singular country presents! unlike any thing that I have ever seen on the face of the globe. Finally on the nineteenth day of our voyage, our little bark dropped anchor in the harbor of Reykjavik, and our cannon announced to the Icelanders the arrival of the "Post ship" with letters and friends from Denmark. Then with expectation about to be gratified, I stepped ashore on the rocky coast of Iceland.

CHAPTER II.

There is not one atom of yon earth,
But once was living man;

Nor the minutest drop of rain

That hangeth in its thinnest cloud,

But flowed in human veins;
And from the burning plains
Where Lybian monsters yell,
From the most gloomy glens
Of Greenland's sunless clime,
To where the golden fields
Of fertile England spread
Their harvest to the day;
Thou canst not find one spot
Whereon no city stood.

SHELLEY.

AND this is Iceland!-but I see no ice. This is the island that is shown to us in our geographical books and maps, as a small white spot on the borders of the Arctic ocean, and described as a cold, dreary, and uninteresting region, inhabited by a few dwarfish and ignorant people, who have little knowledge of the world, and of whom little is known. The names of one or two of its mountains are given, and some place is mentioned as its capital or largest town. That the country itself, or any thing that is to be found here, is worth a journey to see, or that the history or habits of the people possesses any degree of interest, has not, proba