py this time in the pleasantest manner, she begged Cousin
Hans to sing a little song.

He was ready at once, he was not one of those foolish people who require
pressing; he knew quite well the value of his talent.

There was, however, this peculiarity about Hans's singing, or rather
about its reception, that opinion was more than usually divided as to
its merits. By three persons in the world his execution was admired as
something incomparable. These three persons were, first, Cousin Ola,
then Aunt Maren, and lastly Cousin Hans himself. Then there was a large
party which thought it great fun to hear Cousin Hans sing. "He always
makes something out of it." But lastly there came a few evil-disposed
people who asserted that he could neither sing nor play.

It was with respect to the latter point, the accompaniment, that Cousin
Ola always cherished a secret reproach against his brother--the only
shadow upon his admiration for him.

He knew how much labor it had cost both Hans himself and his sisters to
get him drilled in these accompaniments, especially in the three
minor chords with which he always finished up, and which he practised
beforehand every time he went to a party.

So, when he saw his brother seated at the piano, letting his fingers run
lightly and carelessly over the key-board, and then looking up to
the ceiling and muttering, "What key is it in again?" as if he were
searching for the right one, a shiver always ran through Cousin Ola. For
he knew that Hans had mastered three accompaniments, and no more--one
minor and two major.

And when the singer, before rising from the piano, threw in these three
carefully-practised minor chords so lightly, and with such an impromptu
air, as if his fingers had instinctively chanced upon them, then Ola
shook his head and said to himself, "This is not quite straightforward
of Hans."

In the mean time his brother sang away at his rich repertory. Schumann
and Kierulf were his favorites, so he performed _"Du bist die Ruh," "My
loved one, I am prison'd" "Ich grolle nicht," "Die alten boesen Lieder,"
"I lay my all, love, at thy feet," "Aus meiren grossen Schmerzen mach'
ich die kleinen Lieder"_--all with the same calm superiority, and that
light, half-sportive accompaniment. The only thing that gave him a
little trouble was that fatal point, _"Ich legt' auch meine Liebe, Und
meinen Schmerz hinein;"_ but even of this he made something.

Then Ola, who knew to a nicety the li