m. They jumped round the cart
in their cloth shoes like two frolicsome young puppies. "Love to
Mother!" they shouted over and over again.

Lars Peter bent down from the top of the load, where he was half
buried between the sacks. "Shan't I give her your love too?" asked
he. Ditte turned away her head.

Then he took his whip and cracked it. And slowly Klavs set off on
his journey.

CHAPTER II

THE HIGHROAD

"He's even more fond of the highroad than a human being," Lars Peter
used to say of Klavs, and this was true; the horse was always in a
good temper whenever preparations were being made for a long
journey. For the short trips Klavs did not care at all; it was the
real highroad trips with calls to right and left, and stopping at
night in some stable, which appealed to him. What he found to enjoy
in it would be difficult to say; hardly for the sake of a new
experience--as with a man. Though God knows--'twas a wise enough
rascal! At all events Klavs liked to feel himself on the highroad,
and the longer the trip the happier he would be. He took it all with
the same good temper--up hills where he had to strain in the shafts,
and downhill where the full weight of the cart made itself felt. He
would only stop when the hill was unusually steep--to give Lars
Peter an opportunity of stretching his legs.

To Lars Peter the highroad was life itself. It gave daily bread to
him and his, and satisfied his love of roaming. Such a piece of
highroad between rows of trimmed poplars with endless by-ways off
to farms and houses was full of possibilities. One could take this
turning or that, according to one's mood at the moment, or leave the
choice of the road to the nag. It always brought forth something.

And the highroad was only the outward sign of an endless chain. If
one liked to wander straight on, instead of turning off, ay, then
one would get far out in the world--as far as one cared. He did not
do it of course; but the thought that it could be done was something
in itself.

On the highroad he met people of his own blood: tramps who crawled
up without permission on to his load, drawing a bottle from their
pocket, offering it to him, and talking away. They were people who
traveled far; yesterday they had come from Helsingoer; in a week's
time they would perhaps be over the borders in the south and down in
Germany. They wore heavily nailed boots, and had a hollow instead of
a stomach, a handkerchief round their