_Hafnarfjörðr_ is a prosperous trading village with a good harbor, a high school and many excellent homes. It contains one house reported to have been built by _Snorri Sturlasson_. As he was born in 1178 this house is of great age and worthy of a visit. It was doubtless built as reported, for tradition in Iceland is not like Virgil’s Fame, it is truth. The road from this village to _Reykjavik_ is of the best construction and one must admire the skill of the engineer as the pony canters around the curves, ascends the gentle grades and skirts the numerous small inlets of the sea. Many of these tiny bays indent the land, hundreds of piles of peat are drying in the August wind, sheep and cattle are scattered over the upland slopes, the late summer flowers are in full bloom, the tiny fishing craft are rocking on the shimmering sea and the wash of the water in the lava pebbles on the strand adds music to enhance the pleasure of this seaside ride. Out of the austerity of the volcanic passes, into the quiet and serenity of the uncharred meadows, comes the rider, and the load of grandeur and sublimity is lifted that beauty and charm may soothe the mind after the contemplation of these natural creations that astonish and awe. This is the pleasure road of Icelandic youth and those gentlemen who wish to display the points of the latest saddle pony from the great horse fairs of the north. If one has formed the impression that Icelanders are sedate and morose and never given to enjoyment that breeds laughter, he should travel this road on Sunday when it is thronged with country folk and city dwellers alike. Gay groups are here and there, songs that are merry from throats that are attuned fill the air, and seated upon a jutting rock are two young people reciting to each other in this softened light that age-old story, that sweetest of all stories, love. This seaside drive is to the people of _Reykjavik_ what Riverside Drive is to the people of New York City. One afternoon in _Reykjavik_ we entered the shop of a fish merchant and engaged a boat with two men to row us across the harbor to _Engey_, Meadow-Island, a few miles from the city. The price agreed upon was three _kronur_, about seventy-nine cents. We were absent seven hours. The boatmen were so considerate of our pleasure that on the return to the wharf I handed to each a _krone_, then went to the shop of the merchant and paid the three _kronur_ as agreed. The following afternoon this gentleman met me in the street. He had an interpreter with him who accosted me as follows:— “Are you the gentleman who engaged my boat to go to _Engey_ yesterday?” I replied that I was. “Did you not agree with me for three _kronur_?” “I did. Did I not go to your shop on my return and pay you?”