our charcoal smoke. But never
had I seen father so happy and full of fun. Neither of them could
stand upright in the hut, and the only furniture in the place were
two bunks made of spruce twigs and a couple of flat stones on which
they had built a fire; yet they were perfectly contented. They sat
down, side by side, on one of the bunks, and opened the basket. 'I
don't know whether you can have any of this,' said Strong Ingmar to
father, 'for it's my Christmas dinner, you know.' 'Seeing it's
Christmas Eve you must be a good to me,' said father. 'At a time
like this I suppose it would never do to let a poor old charcoal
burner starve,' Strong Ingmar then said.

"They carried on like that all the time they were eating. Mother
had sent a little brandy along with the food. I marvelled that
people could be so happy over food and drink. 'You'll have to tell
your mother that Big Ingmar has eaten up everything,' said the old
man, 'and that she will have to send more to-morrow.' 'So I see,'
said I.

"Just then I was startled by a crackling noise in the fireplace. It
sounded as if some one had cast a handful of pebbles on the stones.
Father did not notice it, but at once Strong Ingmar said: 'What, so
soon?' Yet he went on eating. Then there was more crackling; this
time it was much louder. Now it sounded as if a shovelful of stones
had been thrown on the fire. 'Well, well, is it so urgent!' Strong
Ingmar exclaimed. Then he went out. 'The charcoal must be afire!'
he shouted back. 'Just you sit still, Big Ingmar. I'll attend to
this myself.' Father and I sat very quiet.

"In a little while Strong Ingmar returned, and the fun began anew.
'I haven't had such a merry Christmas in years,' he laughed. He had
no sooner got the words out of his mouth than the crackling started
afresh. 'What, again? Well, I never!' and out he flew in a jiffy.
The charcoal was afire again. When the old man came back for the
second time, father said to him: 'I see now that you have such good
help up here that you can get along by yourself.' 'Yes, you can
safely go home and keep your Christmas, Big Ingmar, for here there
are those who will help me.' Then father and I went home, and
everything was all right. And never, either before or afterward,
was any kiln tended by Strong Ingmar known to get afire."

Gunhild thanked Ingmar for his story, but Gertrude walked on in
silence, as if she had become frightened. It was beginning to get
dark; everything that h