"Well, why not let them live on a farm down in the village? You could
drive in with the boys and some food, and bring them up again three
weeks--six weeks after; it would be easy enough for you, surely?"

"Ay, maybe," said Isak.

Ay, all things would be easy enough, if Inger came home. House and
land and food and grand things enough, and a big sum of money too he
had, and his strength; he was hard as nails. Health and strength--
ay, full and unspoiled, unworn, in every way, the health and strength
of a man.

When Geissler had gone, Isak began thinking of many presumptuous
things. Ay, for had not Geissler, that blessing to them all, said at
parting that he would send a message very soon--would send a telegram
as soon as ever he could. "You can call in at the post office in a
fortnight's time," he had said. And that in itself was a wonderful
thing enough. Isak set to work making a seat for the cart. A seat, of
course, that could be taken off when using the cart for manure, but to
be put in again when any one wanted to drive. And when he had got
the seat made, it looked so white and new that it had to be painted
darker. As for that, there were things enough that had to be done! The
whole place wanted painting, to begin with. And he had been thinking
for years past of building a proper barn with a bridge, to house
in the crop. He had thought, too, of getting that saw set up and
finished; of fencing in all his cultivated ground; of building a boat
on the lake up in the hills. Many things he had thought of doing. But
hard as he worked, unreasonably hard--what did it help against time?
Time--it was the time that was too short. It was Sunday before he