o do the proper thing, and
give your wife a ring she needn't be ashamed to wear, you'd better
make it a gold ring."

"What!" said Isak aloud. Though maybe in his inmost heart he had been
thinking of a gold ring all the time.

They talked the matter over seriously, and agreed about getting a
measurement of some sort for the ring. Isak was thoughtful, and shook
his head and reckoned it was a big thing to do, but the storekeeper
refused to order anything but a gold ring. Isak went home again,
secretly pleased with his decision, but somewhat anxious, for all
that, at the extravagant lengths he had gone to, all for being in love
with his wife.

There was a good average snowfall that winter, and early in the year,
when the roads were passable, folk from the village began carting
up telegraph poles over the moors, dropping their loads at regular
intervals. They drove big teams, and came up past Breidablik, past
Sellanraa farm, and met new teams beyond, coming down with poles from
the other side of the hills--the line was complete.

So life went on day by day, without any great event. What was there
to happen, anyway? Spring came, and the work of setting up the poles
began. Brede Olsen was there again, with the gangs, though he should
have been working on his own land at that season. "'Tis a wonder he's
the time," thought Isak.

Isak himself had barely time to eat and sleep; it was a close thing to
get through the season's work now, with all the land he had brought
under tillage.

Then, between seasons, he got his sawmill roofed in, and could set to
work putting up the machine parts. And look you, 'twas no marvel of
fine woodwork he had set up, but strong it was, as a giant of the
hills, and stood there to good use. The saw could work, and cut as a
sawmill should; Isak had kept his eyes about him down in the village,
and used them well. It was hearty and small, this sawmill he had
built, but he was pleased with it; he carved the date above the
doorway, and put his mark.

And that summer, something more than usual did come about after all at
Sellanraa.

The telegraph workers had now reached so far up over the moors that
the foremost gang came to the farm one evening and asked to be lodged
for the night. They were given shelter in the big barn. As the days
went on, the other gangs came along, and all were housed at Sellanraa.
The work went on ahead, passing the farm, but the men still came
back to sleep in the barn. O