"They'll be big lads now, I doubt?"

"Ay, that's true. They've just been planting potatoes."

"Oh!" said the mother, smiling, and shaking her head. "Can they plant
potatoes already?"

"Why, Eleseus, he gives a hand with this, and little Sivert helps with
that," said Isak proudly.

Little Leopoldine was asking for something to eat. Oh, the pretty
little creature; a ladybird up on a cart! She talked with a sing in
her voice, with a strange accent, as she had learned in Trondhjem.
Inger had to translate now and again. She had her brothers' features,
the brown eyes and oval cheeks that all had got from their mother; ay,
they were their mother's children, and well that they were so! Isak
was something shy of his little girl, shy of her tiny shoes and long,
thin, woollen stockings and short frock; when she had come to meet her
strange papa she had curtseyed and offered him a tiny hand.

They got up into the woods and halted for a rest and a meal all round.
The horse had his fodder; Leopoldine ran about in the heather, eating
as she went.

"You've not changed much," said Inger, looking at her husband.

Isak glanced aside, and said, "No, you think not? But you've grown so
grand and all."

"Ha ha! Nay, I'm an old woman now," said she jestingly.