102 THE POLAR WORJ>D. 



After liis visit to the fair, the peasant sets about hay-making, which is toliim 

 the great business of the year, for he is most anxious to secure winter fodder for 

 his cattle, on wliich liis whole pros])erity depends. The few potatoes and tur- 

 ni|)S about the size of marbles, or the cabbage and parsley, which he may chance 

 to cultivate, are not worth mentioning ; grass is the chief, nay, the only produce 

 of his farm, and that Heaven may grant clear sunsliiny days for hay-making is 

 now his daily prayer. 



Every person capable of wielding a scythe or rake is pressed into the work. 

 The best hay is cut from the " tan," a sort of paddock comprising the lands ad- 

 joining the farm-house, and the only part of his grounds on Avhich the peasant 

 bestows any attention, for, in spite of the paramount importance of his pasture- 

 land, he does but little for its improvement, and a meadow is rarely seen, where 

 the useless or less nutritious herbs are not at least as abundant as those of a 

 better quality. The " tan " is encircled by a turf or stone wall, and is seldom 

 more than ten acres in extent, and generally not more than two or three. Its 

 surface is usually a series of closely-packed mounds, like graves, most unpleasant 

 to walk over, the gutter, in some places, being two feet in dcjith between the 

 mounds. After having finished Avith the "tun," the farmer subjects to a proc- 

 ess of cutting all the broken hillsides and boggy imdrained swamps that lie 

 near his dwelling. The blades of the scythes are very short. It would be im- 

 possible to use a long-bladed scythe, owing to the imevenness of the ground. 



The cutting and making of hay is carried on, when the weather will permit, 

 through all the twenty-four hours of the dav. When the hay is made it is tied 

 in bundles by cords and thongs, and carried away by ponies to the earthen 

 houses prepared for it, which are similar to and adjoin those in which the cattle 

 are stalled. "It is a very curious sight," says Mi-. Shepherd, " to see a string 

 of hay-laden ])onies returning home. Each pony's halter is made fast to the 

 tail of the preceding one, and the little animals are so enveloped in their bur- 

 dens that nothing but their hoofs and the connecting ropes are visible, and they 

 look as though a dozen huge haycocks, feeling themselves sufficiently made, 

 were crawling off to their resting-places." 



When the harvest is finished the farmer treats his family and laborers to a 

 substantial supper, consisting of mutton, and a soup of milk and flour; and 

 although the serious and taciturn Icelander has perhaps of all men the least 

 taste for music and dancing, yet these simple feasts are distinguished by a plac- 

 id serenity, no less pleasing than the more boisterous mirth displayed at a 

 southern vintage. 



Almost all labor out-of-doors now ceases for the rest of the year. A thick 

 mantle of snow soon covers mountain and vale, meadow and moor ; Avith every 

 returning day, the sun pays the cold earth a decreasing A^isit, until, finally, he 

 hardly appears above the ho.izon at noon; the Avintry storm howls over the 

 waste, and for months the life of the Icelander is confined to his hut, Avhich 

 frequently is but a few degrees better than that of the filthy Lap. 



Its loAver part is built of rude stones to about the height of four feet, and 

 betAveen each row layers of turf are placed Avith great regularity, to serve in- 

 stead of mortar, and keep out the Avind. A roof of such Avood as can be pro- 



