stands here beside me."

"Why, that is the richest girl in the parish."

"So they say," replied the peasant, stroking back his hair with
one hand.

The priest sat a while as if in deep thought, then entered the
names in his book, without making any comments, and the men wrote
their signatures underneath. Thord laid three dollars on the
table.

"One is all I am to have," said the priest.

"I know that very well; but he is my only child, I want to do it
handsomely."

The priest took the money.

"This is now the third time, Thord, that you have come here on
your son's account."

"But now I am through with him," said Thord, and folding up his
pocket-book he said farewell and walked away.

The men slowly followed him.

A fortnight later, the father and son were rowing across the lake,
one calm, still day, to Storliden to make arrangements for the
wedding.