the little girl over to the blue cupboard, and given her a cookie
and a lump of sugar, and Björn Hindrickson himself had asked her
name and her age; whereupon he had opened his big leather purse and
presented her with a bright new sixpence.

Jan had been served with coffee, and his aunt had asked after
Katrina and had wondered whether they kept a cow or a pig, and if
their hut was cold in winter and if the wages Jan received from
Eric of Falla were sufficient for their needs.

No, there was nothing about the visit itself that troubled Jan.
When he had chatted a while with the Hindricksons they had excused
themselves--which was quite proper--saying they were invited to a
tea that afternoon and would be leaving in half an hour. Jan had
risen at once and said good-bye, knowing they must allow themselves
time to dress. Then his aunt had gone into the pantry and had
brought out butter and bacon, had filled a little bag with barley,
and another with flour, and had tied them all into a single parcel,
which she had put into Jan's hand at parting. It was just a little
something for Katrina, she had said. She should have some
recompense for staying at home to look after the house.

It was this parcel Jan stood there pondering over. He knew that in
the bundle were all sorts of good things to eat, the very things
they longed for at every meal at Ruffluck, still he felt it would
be unfair to the little girl to keep it.

He had not come to the Hindricksons as a beggar, but simply to see
his kinsfolk. He did not wish them to entertain any false notions
as to that. This thought had come to him instantly the parcel was