er when it
came to a quarrel.

But that Sivert! Now and again he would come across a bird's nest in
the woods; once he talked about a mouse-hole he had found, and made a
lot of that; another time it was a great fish as big as a man, he had
seen in the river. But it was all evidently his own invention; he was
somewhat inclined to make black into white, was Sivert, but a good
sort for all that. When the cat had kittens, it was he who brought her
milk, because she hissed too much for Eleseus. Sivert was never tired
of standing looking at the box full of movement, a nest of tumbling
furry paws.

The chickens, too, he noticed every day: the cock with his lordly
carriage and fine feathers, the hens tripping about chattering low,
and pecking at the sand, or screaming out as if terribly hurt every
time they had laid an egg.

And there was the big wether. Little Sivert had read a good deal to
what he knew before, but he could not say of the wether that the beast
had a fine Roman nose, begad! That he could not say. But he could do
better than that. He knew the wether from the day when it had been
a lamb, he understood it and was one with it--a kinsman, a
fellow-creature. Once, a strange primitive impression flickered
through his senses: it was a moment he never forgot. The wether was
grazing quietly in the field; suddenly it threw up its head, stopped
munching, simply stood there looking out. Sivert looked involuntarily
in the same direction. No--nothing remarkable. But Sivert himself felt
something strange within him: "'Tis most as if he stood looking into
the garden of Eden," he thought.

There were the cows,--the children had each a couple,--great sailing
creatures, so friendly and tame that they let themselves be caught
whenever you liked; let human children pat them. There was the pig,
white and particular about its person when decently looked after,
listening to every sound, a comical fellow, always eager for food, and
ticklish and fidgety as a girl. And there was the billy-goat, there
was always one old billy-goat at Sellanraa, for as soon as one died
another was ready to take his place. And was there ever anything so
solemnly ridiculous to look at? Just now he had a whole lot of goats
to look after, but at times he would get sick and tired of them all,
and lie down, a bearded, thoughtful spectacle, a veritable Father
Abraham. And then in a moment, up again and off after the flock. He
always left a trail of sourish a