"Well, he's done with the wax," said Jeppe, "but the question is,
can he sit? Because there are some who never learn the art of
sitting."

"That must be tested, too, before we can declare him to be useful,"
said little Nikas, in deadly earnest.

"Are you done with your tomfoolery now?" said Master Andres angrily,
and he went his way.

But Jeppe was altogether in his element; his head was full of the
memories of his boyhood, a whole train of devilish tricks, which
completed the ordination. "Then we used to brand them indelibly
with their special branch, and they never took to their heels, but
they considered it a great honor as long as they drew breath. But
now these are weakly times and full of pretences; the one can't
do this and the other can't do that; and there's leather colic and
sore behinds and God knows what. Every other day they come with
certificates that they're suffering from boils from sitting down,
and then you can begin all over again. No, in my time we behaved
very different--the booby got held naked over a three-legged stool
and a couple of men used to go at him with knee-straps! That was
leather on leather, and like that they learned, damn and blast it
all! how to put up with sitting on a stool!"

The journeyman made a sign.

"Now, is the seat of the stool ready consecrated, and prayed over?
Yes, then you can go over there and sit down."