Christmas in Iceland - 15.12.1940, Blaðsíða 32

Christmas in Iceland - 15.12.1940, Blaðsíða 32
smashing piece of skating. Gaf plays em on with “Nj&lssaga Stomp”, his own composition, and they skate on down stage to link up with six bearded gents who represent the Althing. Culture again, you see. Not that I’m musling in on the evening school racket”, Gisli hast- ened to explain. “I’ve always played fair in business, and another guy.......” “Quite!” I hastily put in. “Where was I?” went on Gisli reassured. “Oh yes. They link arms and after A1 has swung our version of “Your tiny hand is frozen” to Fifi he takes hold of her and throws her over his shoulder on to a neigh- bouring glacier, floodlit by my Esja Develop- ment Corporation”. “That diverts the attention for a moment, an, the bearded guys snoop off to Gaf’s “The old man of the Mountains”. “By this time the audience have quite got the idea and they breeze up the mountain to Al’s Ice Bar, where they find a swell ice-cream supper awaiting them, It’s cheap and it’s national”, he confided. “After the interval it’s every man and every stulka for herself, and the whole gang gets going on the slope while Gaf plays ’em on to the plain with, “How d’ you like to love me, on the level?” “Well?” said Gisli triumphantly. “What do you say?” “It’s fine!” I said lyingly. “The Esja scheme’s great and will put you right tops. It is public spirited men like you who have made each nation what it is to-day”. “Thanks”, said Gisli. And the Black Death made another round. The British come to Iceland Continued of Page 23. be the next step. It was to be carried out within a matter of days. What would be the fate of Iceland if England fell? In the whirlwind of various ideas that kept creeping into my somewhat confused mind, this question was the foremost. Yes. Icelanders, like other small nations under the “Maddog” heel, would become German sub- jects. Young Icelanders would be conscripted to armies fighting on the borders of what would be a growing “World Reich” of the “Maddogs”. With thank God the main body of the B. E. F. back in Britain there was a fortnight of expected invasion of the British Isles. “Let them come”, challenged the British. Did the “Maddogs” come? — not likely. All they did was to fly high and drop blindly their bombs of destruction. Then came the end of August when Britain had by leaps and bounds grown stronger, much to the relief of all small and still unoc- cupied nations. And high time too for, with the fall of Britain down would go the free- dom of all small nation. It is therefore that I say that the sailors, soldiers, and Air Force men, who throng our streets to-day, and their fellow men abroad, wherever they may be, stand with their living- bodies between us Icelanders and the bar- baric German rule which many considered worse than death. Point of Interest. Do you know that next to Great Britain, Iceland is the largest island in Europe. Its surface is about a fifth part greater than Ire- land. Contretemps: Sergeant Bawle — What in the bankety- blank do you two adjectived so — and — so’s mean by leaving the ranks and running after those two Stulkas?” Private Pullthrough — But you shouted, Pick ’em up! Sarge!” Oh yeah? Corporal Bolt hasn’t been home in ten years, we hear. His wife is beginning to sus- pect that he’s growing tired of her. “Slugged”. “And you have twenty-seven bullets in you, my poor man. Do they burt?” “No, lady. It’s the weight that makes me tired”. 30 CHRISTMAS IN ICELAND


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