father or mother, he understood now how they had felt; for it was hours
and hours before that teacher got through.

At last the teacher went out into the courtyard again. And there he
discoursed upon the tireless labour of mankind to procure for themselves
tools and weapons, clothes and houses and ornaments. He said that such
an old castle as Vittskövle was a mile-post on time's highway. Here one
could see how far the people had advanced three hundred and fifty years
ago; and one could judge for oneself whether things had gone forward or
backward since their time.

But this dissertation the boy escaped hearing; for the student who
carried him was thirsty again, and stole into the kitchen to ask for a
drink of water. When the boy was carried into the kitchen, he should
have tried to look around for the goosey-gander. He had begun to move;
and as he did this, he happened to press too hard against the lid--and
it flew open. As botanists' box-lids are always flying open, the student
thought no more about the matter but pressed it down again. Then the
cook asked him if he had a snake in the box.

"No, I have only a few plants," the student replied. "It was certainly
something that moved there," insisted the cook. The student threw back
the lid to show her that she was mistaken. "See for yourself--if--"

But he got no further, for now the boy dared not stay in the box any
longer, but with one bound he stood on the floor, and out he rushed.
The maids hardly had time to see what it was that ran, but they hurried
after it, nevertheless.

The teacher still stood and talked when he was interrupted by shrill