fruitful--I can think of none better! But you--have you lost the
farmer's instinct in town?"

Pelle did not reply. Although there might be something fine and
splendid in working oneself to death over a bit of land, just so
that something different might grow there, he himself was glad that
he did not possess this farmer's instinct.

"My father, and his father, and all of our family I have ever known,
we've all had something in us so that we've been driven to improve
the soil, without thinking of our own comfort. But it certainly
never entered the mind of one of us that we should ever hear it ill
spoken of--and by one of our own people too!" Lasse spoke with his
face turned away--as did the Almighty when He was wroth with His
people; and Pelle felt as though he were a hateful renegade, as
bad as bad could be. But nevertheless he would not give in.

"I should be no use at all here," he said apologetically, gazing
in the direction of the sea. "I don't believe in it."

"No, you've cut yourself loose from it all, you have!" retorted
Lasse bitterly. "But you'll repent it some day, in the long run.
Life among the strangers there isn't all splendor and enjoyment."

Pelle did not answer; he felt at that moment too much of a man to
bandy words. He contained himself, and they went onward in silence.

"Well, of course, it isn't an estate," said Lasse suddenly, in order
to take the sting out of further criticism. Pelle was still silent.