road most of the time. He
made a lot of money, and was proud of it too. He often bought cattle
and sold them again. He was dissipated, so it was said--played cards
with fellows of his own kidney, and went to dances. Sometimes after
a brawl, he would come home with a wounded head and a black eye.
Apparently he spent a great deal of money; no-one could say how much
he made. That was his business, but he behaved as if he alone kept
things going, and was easily put out. Lars Peter never interfered,
he liked peace in the house.

One day, however, they quarreled in earnest. Johannes had always had
his eye on the nag, and one day when Lars Peter was away, he dragged
it out of the stall and tied it up, he was going to teach it to
behave, he said to the children. With difficulty he harnessed it to
the cart, it lashed its tail and showed its teeth, and when Johannes
wanted it to set off, refused to stir, however much it was lashed.
At last, beside himself with temper, he jumped off the cart, seized
a shaft from the harrow, and began hitting at its legs with all his
might. The children screamed. The horse was trembling, bathed in
perspiration, its flanks heaving violently. Each time he jumped up
to it, the nag kicked up its hind legs, and at last giving up the
fight, Johannes threw away his weapon and went into his room.

Ditte had tried to throw herself between them, but had been brushed
aside; now she went up to the horse. She unharnessed it, gave it
water to drink, and put a wet sack over its wounds, while the little
ones stood round crying and offering it bread. Shortly afterwards
Johannes came out; he had changed his clothes. Quickly, without a
look at any one, he harnessed and drove off. The little ones came
out from their hiding-place and gazed after him.

"Is he going away now?" asked sister Else.

"I only wish he would, or the horse bolt, so he could never find his
way back again, nasty brute," said Kristian. None of them liked him
any longer.

A man came along the footpath down by the marsh, it was their
father. The children ran to meet him, and all started to tell what
had happened. Lars Peter stared at them for a moment, as if he
could not take in what they had said, then set off at a run; Ditte
followed him into the stable. There stood Klavs, looking very
miserable; the poor beast still trembled when they spoke to it; its
body was badly cut. Lars Peter's face was gray.

"He may thank the Lord that he's not her