setting sun, and felt that he was to be remembered so long as a
train should roar through the fruitful valley. A feeling of
forgiveness crept into his soul. He looked toward the churchyard,
of which a part remained, with crosses bowing toward the earth,
but a part had become railroad. He was just trying to define his
feelings, when, whistle went the first signal, and a while after
the train came slowly along, puffing out smoke mingled with
sparks, for wood was used instead of coal; the wind blew toward
the house, and standing there they soon found themselves enveloped
in a dense smoke; but by and by, as it cleared away, Lars saw the
train working through the valley like a strong will.

He was satisfied, and entered the house as after a long day's
work. The image of his grandfather stood before him at this
moment. This grandfather had raised the family from poverty to
forehanded circumstances; true, a part of his citizen-honor had
been lost, but forward he had pushed, nevertheless. His faults
were those of his time; they were to be found on the uncertain
borders of the moral conceptions of that period, and are of no
consideration now. Honor to him in his grave, for he suffered and
worked; peace to his ashes. It is good to rest at last. But he
could get no rest because of his grandson's great ambition. He was
thrown up with stone and gravel. Pshaw! very likely he would only
smile that his grandson's work passed above his head.

With such thoughts he had undressed and gone to bed. Again his
grandfather's image glided forth. What did he wish. Surely he
ought to be satisfied now, with the family's honor sounding forth
above his grave; who else had such a monument? But yet, what mean
these two great eyes of fire? This hissing, roaring, is no longer