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of speech should have fallen upon so humble a man. "But the schoolmaster himself is only a peasant," he added, with a little more confidence. After this preamble, Hoek Matts folded his hands and was ready to begin preaching at once. But by that time the schoolmaster had recovered from his first shock of surprise. "Do you think of speaking here now, Hoek Matts--immediately?" "Yes, that's my intention," the man replied. He grew as frightened as a child when Storm glowered at him. "It was my purpose, of course, to first ask leave of the schoolmaster and the rest," he stammered. "We're all through for the day," said Storm, conclusively. Then the meek little man began to beg with tears in his voice: "Won't you please let me say a few words? I only want to tell of the things that have come to me when walking behind the plow and when working by myself at the kiln; and now they want to come out." But the schoolmaster, though he had had such a day of triumph himself, felt no pity for the poor little man. "Matts Ericsson comes here with his own peculiar notions, and claims that they are messages from God," he declared rebukingly. Hoek Matts dared not venture a protest, and the schoolmaster opened the hymnbook. "Let us all join in singing hymn one hundred and eighty-seven," he said. Whereupon he read out the hymn in stentorian tones, then he began to sing at the top of his voice, "Are your windows open toward Jerusalem." Meanwhile, he thought: "It was well after all that the pastor happened in to-day; now he can see that I know how to maintain order in my Zion." But no sooner was the hymn finished than a man jumped to his feet. It was proud and dignified Ljung Bjoern Olafsson, who was married to one of the Ingmar girls, and was the owner of a large farmstead in the heart of the parish. "We down at this end think that the schoolmaster might have consulted our wishes before turning Matts Ericsson down," he mildly protested. "Oh, you think so, do you, Sonny?" The schoolmaster spoke in just the kind of tone he would have used in reproving some young whippersnapper. "Then let me tell you that no one but myself has any say here, in this hall." Ljung Bjoern turned blood red. He had not meant to provoke a quarrel with Storm, but had simply wished to soften the blow for Hoek Matts, who was an inoffensive man. Just the same, he could not help feeling chagrined over the reply he had got; but before he could
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