AN ICELANDIC LADY’S DRESS. 43 
time I had heard Icelandic spoken continuously, and 
it struck me as a singularly sweet caressing language, 
although I disliked the particular cadence, amounting 
almost to a chant, with which each sentence ended. 
As in every church where prayers have been offered 
up since the world began, the majority of the congre¬ 
gation were women, some few dressed in bonnets, and 
the rest in the national black silk scull-cap, set jauntily 
on one side of the head, with a long black tassel 
hanging down to the shoulder, or else in a quaint 
mitre of white linen, of which a drawing alone could 
give you an idea; the remainder of an Icelandic lady’s 
costume, when not superseded by Paris fashions, consists 
of a black bodice fastened in front with silver clasps, 
over which is drawn a cloth jacket, ornamented with 
a multitude of silver buttons; round the neck goes 
a stiff ruff of velvet, figured with silver lace, and a 
silver belt, often beautifully chased, binds the long dark 
wadmal petticoat round the waist. Sometimes the 
ornaments are of gold instead of silver, and very costly. 
Before dismissing his people, the preacher descended 
from the pulpit, and putting on a splendid cope of 
crimson velvet (in which some bishop had in ages past 
