ungenerous enough to force you to feign an interest which you
do not feel."

"Yes, I know you think me flippant and boyish," retorted he, with sudden
energy, and tossing a stone down into the gulf below. "But, by the way,
my friend Strand, if he ever comes, would be just the man for you.
He has quite as many hobbies as you have, and, what is more, he has a
profound respect for hobbies in general, and is universally charitable
toward those of others."

"Your friend is a great man," said the girl, earnestly. "I have read his
book on `The Wading Birds of the Norwegian Highlands,' and none but a
great man could have written it."

"He is an odd stick, but, for all that, a capital fellow; and I have no
doubt you would get on admirably with him."

At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the appearance of the
pastor's man, Hans, who came to tell the "young miss" that there was
a big tramp hovering about the barns in the "out-fields," where he
had been sleeping during the last three nights. He was a dangerous
character, Hans thought, at least judging from his looks, and it was
hardly safe for the young miss to be roaming about the fields at night
as long as he was in the neighborhood.

"Why don't you speak to the pastor, and have him arrested?" said
Arnfinn, impatient of Hans's long-winded recital.

"No, no, say nothing to father," demanded Augusta, eagerly. "Why should
you arrest a poor man as long as he does nothing worse than sleep in the
barns in the out-fields?"

"As you say, miss," retorted Hans, and departed.

The moon came up pale and mist-like over the eastern mountain ridges,
struggled for a few brief moments feebly with the sunlight, and then
vanished.

"It is strange," said Arnfinn, "how everything reminds me of Strand
to-night. What gloriously absurd apostrophes to the moon he could make!
I have not told you, cousin, of a very singular gift which he possesses.
He can attract all kinds of birds and wild animals to himself; he can
imitate their voices, and they flock around him, as if he were one of
them, without fear of harm."

"How delightful," cried Augusta, with sudden animation. "What a glorious
man your friend must be!"

"Because the snipes and the wild ducks like him? You seem to have
greater confidence in their judgment than in mine."

"Of course I have--at least as long as you persist in joking. But,
jesting aside, what a wondrously beautiful life he must lead whom
Nature takes thu