whispered them into his ear. Only on rare occasions had he been
able to think as quickly and clearly as on that day, and the
thought of it gladdened and encouraged him. It occurred to him that
he was giving himself needless anxiety; that no one expected him to
plunge headlong into misery. He thought that if his father were
only living now, he would ask his advice in this matter, as he had
always done in the old days when grave questions had come up.

"If I only knew the way, I'd go to him," he said, quite pleased at
the idea. "I wonder what big Ingmar would say if some fine day I
should come wandering up to him? I fancy him settled on a big farm,
with many fields and meadows, a large house and barns galore, with
lots of red cattle and not a black or spotted beast among them,
just exactly as he wanted it when he was on earth. Then as I step
into the farmhouse--"

The plowman suddenly stopped in the middle of a furrow and glanced
up, laughing. These thoughts seemed to amuse him greatly, and he
was so carried away by them that he hardly knew whether or not he
was still upon earth. It seemed to him that in a twinkling he had
been lifted all the way up to his old father in heaven.

"And now as I come into the living-room," he went on, "I see many
peasants seated on benches along the walls. All have sandy hair,
white eyebrows, and thick underlips. They are all of them as like
father as one pea is like another. At the sight of so many people I
become shy and linger at the door. Father sits at the head of the
table, and the instant he sees me he says; 'Welcome, little Ingmar
Ingmarsson!' Then father gets up and comes over to me. 'I'd like to
have a word with you, father,' I say, 'but there are so many