n't
it?"

"I'll have nothing to do with it," said Lars Peter determinedly.

"Don't want you to--you're not the sort for this work. I'm off
tomorrow, but you must get me another horse. If I have to drive with
that rusty old threshing-machine in there, I shan't be back for a
whole week. Never saw such a beast. If he was mine I'd make him into
sausages."

"That you shall never do," answered Lars Peter offendedly. "The
horse is good enough, though maybe he's not to your liking."

The fact was they did not suit each other--Johannes and Klavs; they
were like fire and water. Johannes preferred to fly along the
highroad; but soon found out it wouldn't do. Then he expected that
the nag--since it could no longer gallop and was so slow to set
going--should keep moving when he jumped off. As a butcher he was
accustomed to jump off the cart, run into a house with a piece of
meat, catch up with the cart and jump on again--without stopping the
horse. But Klavs did not feel inclined for these new tricks. The
result was they clashed. Johannes made up his mind to train the
horse, and kept striking it with the thick end of the whip. Klavs
stopped in amazement. Twice he kicked up his hind legs--warningly,
then turned round, broke the shafts, and tried to get up into the
cart. He showed his long teeth in a grin, which might mean: Just let
me get you under my hoofs, you black rascal! This happened on the
highroad the day he had gone out to buy cattle. Lars Peter and the
children knew that the two were enemies. When Johannes entered the
barn, Klavs at once laid back his ears and was prepared to both bite
and fight. There was no mistaking the signs.

Next morning, before Johannes started out, Kristian was sent over
with the nag to a neighbor who lived north of the road, and got
their horse in exchange.

"It belonged to a butcher for many years, so you ought to get on
with it," said Lars Peter as they harnessed it.

It was long and thin, just the sort for Johannes. As soon as he was
in the cart, the horse knew what kind of man held the reins. It set
off with a jerk, and passed the corner of the house like a flash of
lightning. The next minute they were up on the highroad, rushing
along in a whirl of dust. Johannes bumped up and down on the seat,
shouted and flourished his whip, and held the reins over his head.
They seemed possessed by the devil.

"He shan't touch Klavs again," mumbled Lars Peter as he went in.

The next day Johann