not have to work so hard."

"Oh! then there would doubtless be other things to distress us," and he
grasped his axe with both hands.

The mother came up with dinner for them; they sat down. The mother was
in high spirits, she sat humming and beating time with her feet.

"What are you going to make of yourself when you are grown up, Oyvind?"
said she, suddenly.

"For a houseman's son, there are not many openings," he replied.

"The school-master says you must go to the seminary," said she.

"Can people go there free?" inquired Oyvind.

"The school-fund pays," answered the father, who was eating.

"Would you like to go?" asked the mother.

"I should like to learn something, but not to become a school-master."

They were all silent for a time. The mother hummed again and gazed
before her; but Oyvind went off and sat down by himself.

"We do not actually need to borrow of the school-fund," said the
mother, when the boy was gone.

Her husband looked at her.

"Such poor folks as we?"

"It does not please me, Thore, to have you always passing yourself off
for poor when you are not so."

They both stole glances down after the boy to find out if he could
hear. The father looked sharply at his wife.

"You talk as though you were very wise."

She laughed.

"It is just the same as not thanking God that things have prospered
with us," said she, growing serious.

"We can surely thank Him without wearing silver buttons," observed the
father.

"Yes, but to let Oyvind go to the dance, dressed as he was yesterday,
is not thanking Him either."

"Oyvind is a houseman's son."

"That is no reason why he should not wear suitable clothes when we can
afford it."

"Talk about it so he can hear it himself!"

"He does not hear it; but I should like to have him do so," said she,
and looked bravely at her husband, who was gloomy, and laid down his
spoon to take his pipe.

"Such a poor houseman's place as we have!" said he.

"I have to laugh at you, always talking about the place, as you are.
Why do you never speak of the mills?"

"Oh! you and the mills. I believe you cannot bear to hear them go."

"Yes, I can, thank God! might they but go night and day!"

"They have stood still now, since before Christmas."

"Folks do not grind here about Christmas time."

"They grind when there is water; but since there has been a mill at New
Stream, we have fared badly here."

"The school-master did not say so to-day."