the miserable
habit of making the day unhappy for the children. She was rough with
them should they get in her way; and always left children's tears
like streams of water behind her. When Ditte went to gather sticks,
or pick berries, she always dragged the little ones with her, so as
not to leave them to their mother's tender mercy. There were days
when Soerine was not quite so bad--she was never quite happy and
kind, but at other times she was almost mad with anger, and the
only thing to do was to keep out of her way. Then they would all
hide, and only appear when their father came home.

Soerine was careful not to strike Ditte, and sent her off to school
in good time--she had no wish to see Lars Peter again as he was that
evening. But she had no love for the child, she wanted to get on in
life; it was her ambition to build a new dwelling-house, get more
land and animals--and be on the same footing with the other women on
the small farms round about. The child was a blot on her. Whenever
she looked at Ditte, she would think: Because of that brat, all the
other women look down on me!

The child certainly was a good worker, even Soerine grudgingly
admitted it to Lars Peter. It was Ditte who made butter, first in a
bottle, which had to be shaken, often by the hour, before the butter
would come--and now in the new churn. Soerine herself could not stand
the hard work of churning. Ditte gathered berries and sold them in
the market, ran errands, fetched water and sticks, and looked after
the sheep, carrying fat little Povl wherever she went. He cried if
she left him behind, and she was quite crooked with carrying him.

Autumn was the worst time for the children. It was the herring
season, and their father would stay down at the fishing
hamlet--often for a month at a time--helping with the catch. Soerine
was then difficult to get on with; the only thing which kept her
within bounds was Ditte's threat of running away. There were not
many men left in the neighborhood in the autumn, and Soerine went in
daily dread of tramps. Should they knock at the door in the evening,
she would let Ditte answer it.

Ditte was not afraid. This and her cleverness gave her moral power
over her mother; she had no fear of answering her back now. She was
quicker with her fingers than her mother, both in making baskets and
brooms, and did better work too.

What money they made in this way, Soerine had permission to keep for
herself. She never