Laughter and jokes predominated to such an extent, that I could have fancied myself among impulsive Italians instead of cold Northmen.
There was no lack of wit; but to-day I was unfortunately its butt.

And what was my fault ?--only my stupid modesty.

The conversation was carried on in the Danish language; some members of our party spoke French and others German, but I purposely abstained from availing myself of their acquirements, in order not to disturb the hilarity of the conversation.
I sat silently among them, and was perfectly contented in listening to their merriment.

But my behaviour was set down as proceeding from stupidity, and I soon gathered from their discourse that they were comparing me to the "stone guest" in Mozart's _Don Giovanni_.

If these kind people had only surmised the true reason of my keeping silence, they would perhaps have thanked me for doing so.
As we sat at our meal, I heard a voice in the farmhouse singing an Icelandic song.