d not affect him much. He was
good-natured--wherever he had got it from--there was not a bad
thought in his mind. His strength and trustworthiness made up for
his low origin, so that he was able to hold his own with other young
men; it even happened, that a well-to-do girl fell in love with his
strength and black hair, and wanted him for a husband. In spite of
her family's opposition they became engaged; but very soon she died,
so he did not get hold of her money.

So unlucky was he in everything, that it seemed as if the sins of
his fathers were visited upon him. But Lars Peter took it as the way
of the world. He toiled and saved, till he had scraped together
sufficient money to clear a small piece of land on the Sand--and
once again looked for a wife. He met a girl from one of the
fishing-hamlets; they took to each other, and he married her.

There are people, upon whose roof the bird of misfortune always sits
flapping its black wings. It is generally invisible to all but the
inmates of the house; but it may happen, that all others see it,
except those whom it visits.

Lars Peter was one of those whom people always watched for something
to happen. To his race stuck the two biggest mysteries of all--the
blood and the curse; that he himself was good and happy made it no
less exciting. Something surely was in store for him; every one
could see the bird of misfortune on his roof.

He himself saw nothing, and with confidence took his bride home. No
one told him that she had been engaged to a sailor, who was drowned;
and anyway, what good would it have done? Lars Peter was not the man
to be frightened away by the dead, he was at odds with no man. And
no one can escape his fate.

They were as happy together as any two human beings can be; Lars
Peter was good to her, and when he had finished his own work, would
help her with the milking, and carry water in for her. Hansine was
happy and satisfied; every one could see she had got a good husband.
The bird that lived on their roof could be none other than the
stork, for before long Hansine confided in Lars Peter that she was
with child.

It was the most glorious news he had ever had in his life, and if he
had worked hard before he did even more so now. His evenings were
spent in the woodshed; there was a cradle to be made, and a
rocking-chair, and small wooden shoes to be carved. As he worked he
would hum, something slightly resembling a melody, but always the
same tune