The day for the parish meeting came. In the morning, Lars Hogstad
drove over for Canute Aakre, who came out and took a seat beside
him. They saluted each other as usual, spoke a little less than
they were wont on the way, but not at all of the proposal. The
meeting was full; some, too, had come in as spectators, which
Canute did not like, for he perceived by this a little excitement
in the parish. Lars had his straw, and stood by the stove, warming
himself, for the autumn had begun to be cold. The chairman read
the proposal in a subdued and careful manner, adding, that it came
from the Foged, who was not habitually fortunate. The building was
a gift, and such things it was not customary to part with, least
of all when there was no necessity for it.

Lars, who never before had spoken in the meetings, to the surprise
of all, took the floor. His voice trembled; whether this was
caused by regard for Canute, or anxiety for the success of the
bill, we cannot say; but his arguments were clear, good, and of
such a comprehensive and compact character as had hardly before
been heard in these meetings. In concluding, he said:

"Of what importance is it that the proposal is from the Foged?--
none,--or who it was that erected the house, or in what way it
became the public property?"

Canute, who blushed easily, turned very red, and moved nervously
as usual when he was impatient; but notwithstanding, he answered
in a low, careful tone, that there were savings banks enough in
the country, he thought, quite near, and almost too near. But if
one was to be instituted, there were other ways of attaining this
end, than by trampling upon the gifts of the dead, and the love of