wages when no one had asked him to, and started stone-quarrying with
contract work. And so he went on with his foolish tricks to begin
with, and let his cottagers do as they liked about coming to work
at the farm. He even went so far as to send them home in wet weather
to get in their corn, and let his own stand and be ruined. But
things went all wrong of course, as might well be imagined, and
gradually he had to give in, and abandon all his foolish ideas.

The people of the district submitted to this condition of dependence
without a murmur. They had been accustomed, from father to son, to
go in and out of the gates of Stone Farm, and do what was required
of them, as dutifully as if they had been serfs of the land. As a
set-off they allowed all their leaning toward the tragic, all the
terrors of life and gloomy mysticism, to center round Stone Farm.
They let the devil roam about there, play loo with the men for their
souls, and ravish the women; and they took off their caps more
respectfully to the Stone Farm people than to any one else.

All this had changed a little as years went on; the sharp points of
the superstition had been blunted a little. But the bad atmosphere
that hangs over large estates--over all great accumulations of what
should belong to the many--also hung heavy over Stone Farm. It was
the judgment passed by the people, their only revenge for themselves
and theirs.

Lasse and Pelle were quickly aware of the oppressive atmosphere,
and began to see with the half-frightened eyes of the others, even
before they themselves had heard very much. Lasse especially thought
he could never be quite happy here, because of the heaviness that
always seemed to surround them. And then that weeping that no one