. There was
no chance now of getting anything more out of him.

After all, it was comical to go round watching people fight over
one's goods and chattels. They were not too grand to take the rag
and bone man's leavings--if only they could get it on credit and
make a good bargain.

The auctioneer knew most of them by name, and encouraged them to
bid. "Now, Peter Jensen Hegnet, make a good bid. You haven't bought
anything from me for a whole year!" said he suddenly to one of the
cottagers. Or, "Here's something to take home to your wife, Jens
Petersen!" Each time he named them, the man he singled out would
laugh self-consciously and make a bid. They felt proud at being
known by the auctioneer.

"Here's a comb, make a bid for it!" shouted the auctioneer, when the
farm implements came to be sold. A wave of laughter went through the
crowd; it was an old harrow which was put up. The winnowing-machine
he called a coffee-grinder. He had something funny to say about
everything. At times the jokes were such that the laughter turned on
Lars Peter, and this was quickly followed up. But Lars Peter shook
himself, and took it as it came. It was the auctioneer's profession
to say funny things--it all helped on the sale!

The poor silly day laborer, Johansen, was there too. He stood behind
the others, stretching his neck to see what was going on--in ragged
working clothes and muddy wooden shoes. Each time the auctioneer
made a remark, he laughed louder than the rest, to show that he
joined in the joke. Lars Peter looked at him angrily. In his house
there was seldom food, except what others were foolish enough to
give him--his earnings went in drink. And there he stood, stuck-up
idiot that he was! And bless us, if he didn't make a bid too--for
Lars Peter's old boots. No-one bid against him, so they were knocked
down to him for a crown. "You'll pay at once, of course," said the
auctioneer. This time the laugh was against the buyer; all knew he
had no money.

"I'll pay it for him," said Lars Peter, putting the crown on the
table. Johansen glared at him for a few minutes; then sat down and
began putting on the boots. He had not had leather footwear for
years and years.

Indoors, a table was set out with two large dishes of sandwiches and
a bottle of brandy, with three glasses round. At one end of the
table was a coffee-pot. Ditte kept in the kitchen; her cheeks were
red with excitement in case her preparations should not be
apprec