have her with them, and she was not good at games
either. She was like a hard fruit, which had had more bad weather
than sunshine. Songs and childish rhymes sounded harsh on her lips,
and her hands were rough with work.

The schoolmaster noticed all this. One day when Lars Peter was
passing, he called him in to talk of Ditte. "She ought to be in
entirely different surroundings," said he, "a place where she can
get new school-fellows. Perhaps she has too much responsibility at
home for a child of her age. You ought to send her away."

To Lars Peter this was like a bomb-shell. He had a great respect for
the schoolmaster--he had passed examinations and things--but how was
he to manage without his clever little housekeeper? "All of us ought
to go away," he thought. "There're only troubles and worries here."

No, there was nothing to look forward to here--they could not even
associate with their neighbors! He had begun to miss the fellowship
of men, and often thought of his relations, whom he had not seen,
and hardly heard of, for many years. He longed for the old
homestead, which he had left to get rid of the family nickname, and
seriously thought of selling the little he had, and turning
homewards. Nicknames seemed to follow wherever one went. There was
no happiness to be found here, and his livelihood was gone. "Nothing
seems to prosper here," thought he, saving of course the blessed
children--and they would go with him.

The thought of leaving did not make things better. Everything was at
a standstill. It was no good doing anything until he began his new
life--whatever that might be.

He and Ditte talked it over together. She would be glad to leave,
and did not mind where they went. She had nothing to lose. A new
life offered at least the chance of a more promising future.
Secretly, she had her own ideas of what should come--but not here;
the place was accursed. Not exactly the prince in Granny's
spinning-song, she was too old for that--princes only married
princesses. But many other things might happen besides that, given
the opportunity. Ditte had no great pretensions, but "forward" was
her motto. "It must be a place where there're plenty of people,"
said she. "Kind people," she added, thinking most of her little
brothers and sister.

Thus they talked it over until they agreed that it would be best to
sell up as soon as possible and leave. In the meantime, something
happened which for a time changed their outl