When he came down-stairs, his parents sat all dressed, waiting
breakfast for him. He went up to them and taking their hands thanked
them for the clothes, and received in return a
"wear-them-out-with-good-health."[1] They sat down to table, prayed
silently, and ate. The mother cleared the table, and carried in the
lunch-box for the journey to church. The father put on his jacket, the
mother fastened her kerchief; they took their hymn-books, locked up the
house, and started. As soon as they had reached the upper road they
met the church-faring people, driving and walking, the confirmation
candidates scattered among them, and in one group and another
white-haired grand-parents, who had felt moved to come out on this
great occasion.

[Footnote 1: A common expression among the peasantry of Norway,
meaning: "You are welcome."]

It was an autumn day without sunshine, as when the weather is about to
change. Clouds gathered together and dispersed again; sometimes out of
one great mass were formed twenty smaller ones, which sped across the
sky with orders for a storm; but below, on the earth, it was still
calm, the foliage hung lifeless, not a leaf stirring; the air was a
trifle sultry; people carried their outer wraps with them but did not
use them. An unusually large multitude had assembled round the church,
which stood in an open space; but the confirmation children immediately
went into the church in order to be arranged in their places before
service began. Then it was that the school-master, in a blue
broadcloth suit, frock coat, and knee-breeches, high shoes, stiff
cravat, and a pipe protruding from his back coat pocket, came down
towards them, nodded and smiled, tapped one on the shoulder, spoke a