Father nodded and took another slice of bread-and-butter.

"It'll take me all the week to tell about it at home," said the farmer's
wife.

The boys sat making fun among themselves of Stiene Sagaer's crooked nose
and the squeaky voice of the farmer's wife. When the wives had done
eating, they stood up and went.

When they had gone some little way, they turned round again and cried
against the wind:

"It's going to be fine to-day, Ivo!"

"And warm!" piped the farmer's wife. "Beautiful weather!"

They went down the sand-path, each wending her own way home.

The boys were now dressed and father, stripped to the waist, went out to
wash his face under the trees at the pump. His freshly-ironed white shirt
was brought out and his shiny boots and his blue smock-frock and
black-silk cap. After much fuss and turning and seeking, he got ready and
the boys too. Mother was busy with the baby in the cradle; Horieneke was
showing her new holy pictures to Trientje; and Bertje and the other boys
had gone out to play in the road. The bells rang again, this time for
high mass. Many small things had still to be rummaged out, clothes to be
pinned and buttoned; and the boys, with their Sunday penny in their
pocket, marched up the wide road to high mass.