Tímarit Þjóðræknisfélags Íslendinga - 01.01.1966, Qupperneq 74

56
TÍMARIT ÞJÓÐRÆKNISFÉLAGS ÍSLENDINGA
who could travel over the earth at
this incredible speed would look
like, for I did not doubt that some
kind of an animal was responsible
for this terrific speed. Then that
train stopped when I least expected.
Once again we boarded a ship on
which we travelled along the shore
until evening. As we later learned,
we had now arrived at the city of
Portland, in the state of Maine. We
walked up the dock and waited there
without anyone seemingly noticing
us. It was becoming dark and the
weather was cold. Our provisions
were now finished and my grand-
father had not a penny in his pos-
session. Men passed us to and fro but
no one paid us the slightest heed.
“Surely we have not come all the
way — arrived in Halifax?” said my
grandfather.
My grandmother remained silent
but compressed her lips; she was be-
ginning to be alarmed. She wrapped
her shawl around me and then we
waited yet a while on the dock.
“This won’t do,” said my grand-
father finally. “I will have to do
something immediately.”
Then he walked up to a man who
had just then arrived.
“Halifax?” said my grandfather.
“Halifax?” repeated the man.
“Já Halfax,” (Yes Halifax) said
my grandfather; “til Halifax — is-
lenzk — sprogum ekki engelsku —
til Halifax.” (“to Halifax — Iceland-
ic speak no English — to Halifax.”)
“Halifax — Halifax,” said the man
in a voice that indicated that he
knew not to what my grandfather
referred.
“Já Halifax — Halifax?” said my
grandfather again in a questioning
voice and at the same time pointed
to the houses around.
Now the stranger understood what
my grandfather wanted. He shook
his head and said: “Hotel, Hotel.”
“Enga peninga,” (no money) said
my grandfather, “getum ekki borg-
að — getum ekki betalað.” (We can-
not pay).
The man said something we did
not understand. Then he motioned
us to follow him, which we did with-
out delay, although he was some-
what suspicious looking in the dark.
Grandfather, however, saw no better
alternative under the circumstances
in which we found ourselves.
This man accompanied us to a
large house a short distance from the
dock. My grandfather knew at once
that this was an inn. An immensely
fat woman greeted us and then di-
rected us into a room furnished with
a small table and two made up beds.
This fat woman was exceedingly
gracious towards my grandmother
and talked incessantly.
“Halifax,” said my grandfather,
“til Halifax — höfum ekki peninga
— kunnum ekki engelskt sprog.” (To
Halifax — have no money — cannot
speak English).
The fat woman became still more
kindly, and her whole face lit up in
a most encouraging smile. My grand-
father understood her to say that
she wished to give the “íslands-
mann” (Icelander) both milk and
bread. Before long many varieties
of food were brought in which my
grandfather and I ate with great
relish; but my grandmother scarcely
touched any of it. The morning after