homefields, but of course this was only my imagination. I also
fancied I could hear the maids laughing, especially one of them. I
would willingly have sacrificed a good deal to be over there helping
her dry the hay. But of this subject no more; I did not intend to
write a love story--at least, not in the ordinary sense of the word.

The dry spell lasted. We, the clerks, took turns at staying out of
doors as much as possible, and 'drinking deeply of the golden fount
of sunshine'.

In the afternoon of the third day, I dropped in at the doctor's. I
felt somewhat weary with walking--and idleness--and looked forward
to the doctor's couch and conversation.

A cigar? asked the doctor.

Yes, a cigar, I answered. I have smoked only six today.

Beer or whisky and water? queried the doctor.

A small whisky, I replied.

I lit my cigar, inhaling deeply of its fragrance--then exhaling
through mouth and nostrils. I sighed with contentment; the cigar was
excellent.

Then we began to drink the whisky and water at our leisure. I
reclined against the head of the couch, stretched out my feet, was
conscious of a luxurious sensation--and sent my thoughts for a
moment across the fjord, where they preferred to remain.