eek-day?"

"Next Saturday, at twelve o'clock noon."

"Is there anything else?" inquired the priest,

"There is nothing else;" and the peasant twirled his cap, as though he
were about to go.

Then the priest rose. "There is yet this, however." said he, and
walking toward Thord, he took him by the hand and looked gravely into
his eyes: "God grant that the child may become a blessing to you!"

One day sixteen years later, Thord stood once more in the priest's
study.

"Really, you carry your age astonishingly well, Thord," said the
priest; for he saw no change whatever in the man.

"That is because I have no troubles," replied Thord. To this the
priest said nothing, but after a while he asked: "What is your
pleasure this evening?"

"I have come this evening about that son of mine who is to be
confirmed to-morrow."

"He is a bright boy."

"I did not wish to pay the priest until I heard what number the boy
would have when he takes his place in the church to-morrow."

"He will stand number one."

"So I have heard; and here are ten dollars for the priest."

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" inquired the priest, fixing
his eyes on Thord.

"There is nothing else."

Thord went out.

Eight years more rolled by, and then one day a noise was heard outside
of the priest's study, for many men were approaching, and at their
head was Thord, who entered first.

The priest looked up and recognized him.

"You come well attended this evening, Thord," said he.

"I am here to request that the banns may be published for my son: he
is about to marry Karen Storliden, daughter of Gudmund, who stands
here beside me."

"Why, that is the richest girl in the parish."

"So they say," replied the peasant, stroking back his hair with one
hand.

The priest sat a while as if in deep thought, then entered the names
in his book, without making any comments, and the men wrote their
signatures underneath. Thord laid three dollars on the table.

"One is all I am to have," said the priest.

"I know that very well; but he is my only child; I want to do it
handsomely."

The priest took the money.

"This is now the third time, Thord, that you have come here on your
son's account."

"But now I am through with him," said Thord, and folding up his
pocket-book he said farewell and walked away.

The men slowly followed him.

A fortnight later, the father and son were rowing across the lake, one
calm, still day, to Storl