art was the
wonderful machine. As he was about to start, Johannes came running
up, unwashed and only half awake; he had just managed to put on his
cap and tie a handkerchief round his neck. "I think I'll go with
you," he said with a yawn.

Lars Peter thought for a minute--it came as a surprise to him. "Very
well, just as you like," said he at last, making room. He had
reckoned on his brother beginning the ditching today; there was so
little water in the meadow now.

"Do me good to get out a bit!" said Johannes as he clambered into
the cart.

Well--yes--but he had only just come in. "Don't you want an
overcoat?" asked Lars Peter. "There's an old one of mine you can
have."

"Oh, never mind--I can turn up my collar."

The sun was just rising; there was a white haze on the shores of the
lake, hanging like a veil over the rushes. In the green fields
dewdrops were caught by millions in the spiders' webs, sparkling
like diamonds in the first rays of sunshine.

Lars Peter saw it all, and perhaps it was this which turned his
mind; at least, today, he thought the Crow's Nest was a good and
pretty little place; it would be a sin to leave it. He had found out
all he wanted to know about his relations and home and what had
happened to every one in the past years and his longing for home had
vanished; now he would prefer to stay where he was. "Just you be
thankful that you're away from it all!" Johannes had said. And he
was right--it wasn't worth while moving to go back to the quarreling
and jealousies of relations. As a matter of fact there was no
inducement to leave: no sense in chasing your luck like a fool,
better try to keep what there was.

Lars Peter could not understand what had happened to him--everything
looked so different today. It was as if his eyes had been rubbed
with some wonderful ointment; even the meager lands of the Crow's
Nest looked beautiful and promising. A new day had dawned for him
and his home.

"'Tis a glorious morning," said he, turning towards Johannes.

Johannes did not answer. He had drawn his cap down over his eyes and
gone to sleep. He looked somewhat dejected and his mouth hung
loosely as if he had been drinking. It was extraordinary how he
resembled his mother! Lars Peter promised himself that he would take
good care of him.

CHAPTER VII

THE SAUSAGE-MAKER

Nothing was done to the land round the Crow's Nest this time; it was
a fateful moment when Johannes, instead of taki