Kingdom. St. Peter, however, bade them to be quiet, and permitted only
the one who had last entered the Abode of the Blessed to speak.

"'I was the village doctor,' this one began, 'and I quitted the earth
because I, too, fell a victim to the pestilence of which many of the poor
people were dying, and against which I fought with all my powers, but
with small success. I can tell you all that you wish to know, my Master,
for, during forty-five years, I devoted my humble services to the sick
poor there. When Hannele died in our Poor-house--it happened before my
time--the misery was even greater than at present. The weavers were
ground down by the large manufacturers, until an energetic man built a
factory in our village, and paid them better wages. As the population
then increased, and consequently the number of patients, space was
wanting in which to house them, for the dilapidated Poor-house--whither
they were carried--was no longer large enough to accommodate them all.
Therefore the parish, aided by the owner of the factory, built a hospital
for the whole district, and the site of the old Poor-house was chosen for
it. The beautiful nut-trees which Hannele had planted had to be
destroyed. I was sorry to be obliged to give the order, but we needed
the ground where they stood. As we had to be economical in everything,
big and little, we had planks sawn out of the trees for our use.'

"At this point another spirit interrupted the physician. 'I have lain in
one of the beds made from the wood. At home I slept on a bundle of
straw, and very uncomfortable it was when I was shaken by the fever. In
the hospital all was different, and when I lay in my comfortable bed, I
felt as if I were already in Heaven.'

"'And I,' cried another broad-winged angel, 'for ten years I walked with
the crutches that were made for me from the nut-tree by the Fresh Spring,