e
towards the sea and sky. He took back his share in the boat and went
to sea again.

Things went tolerably well to begin with. It was summer time when
Ditte had pushed him back to his old occupation again; it was as if
she had really given the old people a second youth. But it was hard
to keep up with the others, in taking an oar and pulling up nets by
the hour. Moreover in the autumn when the herrings were deeper in
the sea, the nets went right down, and were often caught by the
heavy undertow, Soeren had not strength to draw them up like the
other men, and had to put up with the offer of lighter work. This
was humiliating; and even more humiliating was it to break down from
night watches in the cold, when he knew how strong he had been in
days gone by.

Soeren turned to the memories of old days for support, that he might
assert himself over the others. Far and wide he told tales of his
youth, to all who would listen.

In those days implements were poor, and clothes were thin, and the
winter was harder than now. There was ice everywhere, and in order
to obtain food they had to trail over the ice with their gear on a
wooden sledge right out to the great channel, and chop holes to fish
through. Woollen underclothing was unknown, and oilskins were things
none could afford; a pair of thick leather trousers were worn--with
stockings and wooden shoes. Often one fell in--and worked on in wet
clothes, which were frozen so stiff that it was impossible to draw
them off.

To Soeren it was a consolation to dwell upon all this, when he had to
give up such strenuous work as the rowing over to the Swedish coast,
before he could get a good catch. There he would sit in the stern
feeling small and useless, talking away and fidgeting with the sails
in spite of the lack of wind. His partners, toiling with the heavy
oars, hardly listened to him. It was all true enough, they knew
that from their fathers, but it gained nothing in being repeated by
Soeren's toothless mouth. His boasting did not make the boat any
lighter to pull; old Soeren was like a stone in the net.

Maren was probably the only one, who at her own expense could afford
to give a helping hand. She saw how easily he became tired, try as
he would to hide it from her--and she made up her mind to trust in
Providence for food. It was hard for him to turn out in the middle
of the night, his old limbs were as heavy as lead, and Maren had to
help him up in bed.

"'Tis roug