was a mere
accidental resemblance of sound no doubt. As to the latter part, that
is easily explained. In those days there were no surnames. In order to
distinguish men of the same name from each other, it was usual to
designate them by their complexions, or by some peculiarity of person or
trait of character. A blow from a club in early life had destroyed the
shape of Kettle's nose, and had disfigured an otherwise handsome and
manly countenance. Hence his name. He was about thirty-five years of
age, large-boned, broad-shouldered, and tall, but lean in flesh, and
rather ungainly in his motions. Few men cared to grapple with the huge
Irish slave, for he possessed a superabundant share of that fire and
love of fight which are said to characterise his countrymen even at the
present time. He was also gifted with a large share of their
characteristic good humour and joviality; which qualities endeared him
to many of his companions, especially to the boys of the neighbourhood.
In short, there was not a better fellow in the dale than Kettle
Flatnose.

"Thy labour is not light, Kettle," observed Ulf to the thrall as he
paused for a few moments in the midst of his work to wipe his heated
brow.

"Ill would it become me, master," replied the man, "to take my work easy
when my freedom is so nearly gained."

"Right, quite right," replied Ulf with an approving nod, as the thrall
set to work again with redoubled energy.

"That man," he added, turning to Haldor, "will work himself free in a
few weeks hence. He is one of my best thralls. I give my slaves, as
thou knowest, leave to work after hours to purchase their freedom, and
Kettle labours so hard that he is almost a free man already, though he
has been with me little more than two years and a half. I fear the
fellow will not remain with me after he is free, for he is an unsettled
spirit. He was a chief in his own land, it seems, and left a bride
behind him, I am told. If he goes, I lose a man equal to two, he is so
strong and willing.--Ho! Kettle," continued Ulf, turning to the man,
who had just finished the job on which he had been engaged, "toss me
yonder stone and let my friend Haldor see what thou art made of."

Kettle obeyed with alacrity. He seized a round stone as large as his
own head, and, with an unwieldy action of his great frame, cast it
violently through the air about a dozen yards in advance of him.

"Well cast, well cast!" cried Haldor, while a m