father; worst of all with him. Oh, in every way; he was so toil-worn
and so utterly faithful; he had carried the children in his arms, had
told them of the seagulls and other birds and beasts, and the wonders
of the field; it was not so long ago, a few years.... Father stands by
the glass window, then suddenly he turns round, grasps his son's hand,
and says quickly and peevishly: "Well, good-bye. There's the new horse
getting loose," and he swings out of the door and hurries away. Oh,
but he had himself taken care to let the new horse loose a while ago,
and Sivert, the rascal, knew it too, as he stood outside watching his
father, and smiling to himself. And, anyway, the horse was only in the
rowens.

Eleseus had got it over at last.

And then his mother must needs come out on the door-slab and hiccup
again and say, "God bless you!" and give him something. "Take
this--and you're not to thank him, he says you're not to. And don't
forget to write; write often."

Two hundred _Kroner_.

Eleseus looked down the field: his father was furiously at work
driving a tethering-peg into the ground; he seemed to find it a
difficult matter, for all that the ground was soft enough.

The brothers set off down the road; they came to Maaneland, and there
stood Barbro in the doorway and called to them to come up.

"You going away again, Eleseus? Nay, then, you must come in and take a
cup of coffee at least."