a, taking the rag and bone man by the
arm. "We two are going to see life!"

"Hundred--er--kisses, Alma! don't forget," called the Bandmaster
after them. His voice sounded like a market crier's.

"All right," answered Miss Alma, with a laugh.

"What's that he says?" asked Lars Peter wonderingly.

"Don't you bother your head about that fool," she answered, and drew
him along.

* * * * *

Next morning Lars Peter woke early--as usual. There was a curious
illumination in the sky, and with terror he tumbled quickly out of
bed. Was the barn on fire? Then suddenly he remembered that he was
not at home; the gleam of light on the window-panes came from the
street lamps, which struggled with the dawn of day.

He found himself in a dirty little room, at the top of the house--as
far as he could judge from the roofs all round him. How in the name
of goodness had he got here?

He seated himself on the edge of the bed, and began dressing. Slowly
one thing after another began to dawn on him. His head throbbed like
a piston rod--headache! He heard peculiar sounds: chattering women,
hoarse rough laughter, oaths--and from outside came the peal of
church bells. Through all the noise and tobacco smoke came visions
of a fair fringe, and soft red lips--the _princess_! But how did he
come to be here, in an iron bed with a lumpy mattress, and ragged
quilt?

He felt for his watch to see the time--the old silver watch had
vanished! Anxiously he searched his inner pocket--thank Heaven! the
pocketbook was there alright. But what had happened to his watch?
Perhaps it had fallen on the floor. He hurried into his clothes, to
look for it--the big leather purse felt light in his pocket. It was
empty! He opened his pocketbook--that too was empty!

Lars Peter scrambled downstairs, dreading lest any one should see
him, slipped out into one of the side streets, and stumbled to the
inn, harnessed the nag and set off. He began to long for the
children at home--yes, and for the cows and pigs too.

Not until he was well outside the town, with a cold wind blowing on
his forehead, did he remember Soerine. And, suddenly realizing the
full extent of his disaster, he broke down and sobbed helplessly.

He halted at the edge of the wood--just long enough for Klavs to
have a feed. He himself had no desire for food then. He was on the
highroad again, and sat huddled up in the cart, while the previous
evening's debauch sang t