ole evening.

Lars Peter was his old self the next morning. He woke Soerine with a
kiss as usual, humming as he dressed. Soerine still looked at him
with malice, but he pretended not to notice it. It was quite dark,
and as he sat eating his breakfast, with the lantern in front of him
on the table, he kept looking at the three little ones, in bed. They
were all in a heap--like young birds. "When Povl has to join them,
we'll have to put two at each end," he said thoughtfully. "Better
still, if we could afford another bed."

There was no answer from Soerine.

When ready to leave, he bent over Ditte, who lay like a little
mother with the children in her arms. "That's a good little girl,
you've given us," said he, straightening himself.

"She tells lies," answered Soerine from beside the fireplace.

"Then it's because she's had to. My family's not thought much of,
Soerine--and maybe they don't deserve it either. But never a hand was
laid on us children, I'll tell you. I remember plainly my father's
death-bed, how he looked at his hands, and said: 'These have dealt
with much, but never has the rag and bone man's hands been turned
against the helpless!' I'd like to say that when my time comes, and
I'd advise you to think of it too."

Then he drove away. Soerine put the lantern in the window, to act as
a guide to him, and crept back to bed, but could not sleep. For the
first time Lars Peter had given her something to think of. She had
found that in him which she had never expected, something strange
which warned her to be careful. A decent soul, she had always taken
him for--just as the others. And how awful he could be in his
rage--it made her flesh creep, when thinking of it. She certainly
would be careful not to come up against him again.

CHAPTER XV

RAIN AND SUNSHINE

On the days when Ditte did not go to school, there were thousands of
things for her to do. She had to look after the little ones, care
for the sheep and hens too, and gather nettles in a sack for the
pigs. At times Lars Peter came home early, having been unlucky in
selling his fish. Then she would sit up with her parents until one
or two o'clock in the night, cleaning the fish, to prevent it
spoiling. Soerine was one of those people who fuss about without
doing much. She could not bear the child resting for a moment, and
drove her from one task to another. Often when Ditte went to bed,
she was so tired that she could not sleep. Soerine had