have on the whole done well in the New World.

Until recently, the Icelanders were almost entirely a nation of
farmers, and the majority of the stories in this collection contain
sketches of country life. A certain amount of perseverance and even
obstinacy was needed for a farmer's life on an island skirting the
Arctic Circle (The Old Hay). Only about a quarter of the country is
fit for human habitation, mainly the districts along the coast. The
uplands, for the most part made up of mountains, glaciers, sand-
deserts, and lava, are often awe-inspiring in their grandeur.

Nevertheless it would be wrong to exaggerate the severity of the
land. In many places the soil is fertile, as is often the case in
volcanic countries, and--thanks to the Gulf Stream, which flows up
to the shores of the island--the climate is a good deal more
temperate than one might suppose (the average annual temperatures in
Reykjavík are 4-5° Centigrade).

Besides, the surrounding sea makes up for the barrenness of the
country by having some of the richest fishing banks in the world.
Hence, in addition to being farmers, the Icelanders have always been
fishermen who brought means of sustenance from the sea--usually in
primitive open boats like those described in When I was on the
Frigate and Father and Son. In the late nineteenth century decked
vessels came into use besides the open boats, succeeded by steam
trawlers at the beginning of the present century. For the last few
decades, the Icelanders have been employing a modern fishing fleet,
and, at the time of writing, fishery products constitute more than
ninety per cent of the country's exports.