STEEN. (_Rising on his knees_) Come, let's go quick!

BERTEL. Patience, patience, young colt, plenty of time, mother said
something else.

STEEN. What?

BERTEL. (_His eye on the shelf above the fire_) That I should find some
warm porridge for my pains.

HOLGER. (_Springing to his feet_) Why, of course, there _is_
porridge! (_He goes to the shelf_) Nice and warm it is! All ready
for supper. (_He hands the first bowl to_ BERTEL, STEEN _capers
nimbly across the intervening space and seats himself on the side of the
hearth, facing_ BERTEL, _his back to the audience_)

STEEN. Supper! How could we forget supper?--Give me a _big_ bowlful,
Holger.

HOLGER. (_Handing_ STEEN _his porridge_) There isn't a _big_
bowlful here.

STEEN. (_Taking the bowl and hugging it_) Nice kind good supper, umh!
(_Begins to eat eagerly_)

HOLGER. (_Suddenly looking toward the door_) Listen!

BERTEL. To what?