after to-morrow come and dine with me. As to the rest, you know well
that you are at all times welcome. Fill now your glasses, and come and
drink the folks' health. Sorrow we should keep to ourselves, but share
joy in common."

We went into the dancing-room with full glasses, _ma chère mère_ leading
the way as herald. They were awaiting us with bumpers, and _ma chère
mère_ addressed the people something in this strain:--"We must not
indeed laugh until we get over the brook; but when we set out on the
voyage of matrimony with piety and good sense, then may be applied the
adage that 'Well begun is half won'; and on that, my friends, we will
drink a skoal to this wedded pair you see before you, and wish that both
they and their posterity may ever 'sit in the vineyard of our
Lord.' Skoal!"

"Skoal! skoal!" resounded from every side. Bear and I emptied our
glasses, and went about and shook a multitude of people by the hand,
till my head was all confusion. When this was over, and we were
preparing to prosecute our journey, _ma chère mère_ came after us on the
steps with a packet or bundle in her hand, and said in a friendly
manner, "Take this cold roast veal with you, children, for breakfast
to-morrow morning. After that, you must fatten and consume your own
calves. But forget not, daughter-in-law, that I get back my napkin. No,
you shan't carry it, dear child, you have enough to do with your bag and
mantle. Lars Anders shall carry the roast veal." And as if Lars Anders
had been still a little boy, she charged him with the bundle, showed him
how he was to carry it, and Bear did as she said. Her last words were,
"Forget not that I get my napkin again!" I looked with some degree of
wonder at Bear; but he smiled, and lifted me into the carriage.