Bernick: My dear Hilmar, you must not say that. You certainly have
not read the book.

Hilmar: No, and I have no intention of reading it, either.

Mrs. Bernick: Surely you are not feeling quite well today.

Hilmar: No, I am not.

Mrs. Bernick: Perhaps you did not sleep well last night?

Hilmar: No, I slept very badly. I went for a walk yesterday evening for
my health's sake; and I finished up at the club and read a book about a
Polar expedition. There is something bracing in following the
adventures of men who are battling with the elements.

Mrs. Rummel: But it does not appear to have done you much good, Mr.
Tonnesen.

Hilmar: No, it certainly did not. I lay all night tossing about, only
half asleep, and dreamt that I was being chased by a hideous walrus.

Olaf (who meanwhile has come up the steps from the garden): Have you
been chased by a walrus, uncle?

Hilmar: I dreamt it, you duffer! Do you mean to say you are still
playing about with that ridiculous bow? Why don't you get hold of a
real gun?

Olaf: I should like to, but--

Hilmar: There is some sense in a thing like that; it is always an
excitement every time you fire it off.

Olaf: And then I could shoot bears, uncle. But daddy won't let me.

Mrs. Bernick: You really mustn't put such ideas into his head, Hilmar.

Hilmar: Hm! It's a nice breed we are educating up now-a-days, isn't
it! We talk a great deal about manly sports, goodness knows--but we
only play with the question, all the same; there is never any serious
inclination for the bracing discipline that lies in facing danger
manfully. Don't stand pointing your crossbow at me, blockhead--it might
go off!

Olaf: No, uncle, there is no arrow in it.

Hilmar: You don't know that there isn't--there may be, all the same.
Take it away, I tell you!--Why on earth have you never gone over to
America on one of your father's ships? You might have seen a buffalo
hunt then, or a fight with Red Indians.

Mrs. Bernick: Oh, Hilmar--!

Olaf: I should like that awfully, uncle; and then perhaps I might meet
Uncle Johan and Aunt Lona.

Hilmar: Hm!--Rubbish.

Mrs. Bernick: You can go down into the garden again now, Olaf.

Olaf: Mother, may I go out into the street too?

Mrs. Bernick: Yes, but not too far, mind.

(OLAF runs down into the garden and out through the gate in the fence.)

Rorlund: You ought not to put such fancies into the child's head, Mr.
Tonnesen.

Hilmar: No, of course he