whose minds were gloomy as the grey sea-fog with poverty, psalm-singing,
and the fear of hell.

One day, coming home from his work at the peat bog, he found the elders
snuffling and sighing over their afternoon meal. Peer wiped the sweat
from his forehead, and asked what was the matter.

The eldest son shoved a spoonful of porridge into his mouth, wiped his
eyes, swallowed, and said: "Poor Peer!"

"Aye, poor little chap," sighed the old man, thrusting his horn spoon
into a crack in the wall that served as a rack.

"Neither father nor mother now," whimpered the eldest daughter, looking
over to the window.

"Mother? Is she--"

"Ay, dearie, yes," sighed the old woman. "She's gone for sure--gone to
meet her Judge."

Later, as the day went on, Peer tried to cry too. The worst thing of all
was that every one in the house seemed so perfectly certain where his
mother had gone to. And to heaven it certainly was not. But how could
they be so sure about it?

Peer had seen her only once, one summer's day when she had come out
to see the place. She wore a light dress and a big straw hat, and he
thought he had never seen anything so beautiful before. She made no
secret of it among the neighbours that Peer was not her only child;