she came
out and insisted upon their entering. Sometimes, too, there appeared
one who had had no invitation and who had by no means intended to go
in, coming only to look on, until perhaps she might have a chance just
to take one single dance. Those whom Marit liked well she invited into
a small chamber, where her grandfather sat smoking his pipe, and her
grandmother was walking about. The old people offered them something
to drink and spoke kindly to them. Oyvind was not among those invited
in, and this seemed to him rather strange.

The best fiddler of the parish could not come until later, so meanwhile
they had to content themselves with the old one, a houseman, who went
by the name of Gray-Knut. He knew four dances; as follows: two spring
dances, a halling, and an old dance, called the Napoleon waltz; but
gradually he had been compelled to transform the halling into a
schottishe by altering the accent, and in the same manner a spring
dance had to become a polka-mazurka. He now struck up and the dancing
began. Oyvind did not dare join in at once, for there were too many
grown folks here; but the half-grown-up ones soon united, thrust one
another forward, drank a little strong ale to strengthen their courage,
and then Oyvind came forward with them. The room grew warm to them;
merriment and ale mounted to their heads. Marit was on the floor most
of the time that evening, no doubt because the party was at her
grandparents'; and this led Oyvind to look frequently at her; but she
was always dancing with others. He longed to dance with her himself,
and so he sat through one dance, in order to be able to hasten to her
side the moment it was ended; and he did so, but a tall, swarthy
fellow, with thick hair, threw himself in his way.

"Back, youngster!" he shouted, and gave Oyvind a push that nearly made
him fall backwards over Marit.

Never before had such a thing occurred to Oyvind; never had any one
been otherwise than kind to him; never had he been called "youngster"
when he wanted to take part; he blushed crimson, but said nothing, and
drew back to the place where the new fiddler, who had just arrived, had
taken his seat and was tuning his instrument. There was silence in the
crowd, every one was waiting to hear the first vigorous tones from "the
chief fiddler." He tried his instrument and kept on tuning; this
lasted a long time; but finally he began with a spring dance, the boys
shouted and leaped, couple