ll cost a lot of money."

"Go to the inn-keeper then--he can make it all right."

"Ay, that he can--there's not much he can't put right, if he's the
mind to. But I'm not in his good books, I'm afraid."

"That doesn't matter. He treats every one alike whether he likes
them or not."

Lars Peter did not like his errand; he was loth to ask favors of the
man; however, it must be done for the sake of the child. Much to his
surprise the inn-keeper received him kindly. "I'll certainly speak
to the parson and have it seen to," said he. "And you can send the
girl up here some day; it's the custom in the hamlet for _the
ogre's_ wife to provide clothes for girls going to be confirmed."
His big mouth widened in a grin. Lars Peter felt rather foolish.

So Ditte was confirmed after all. For a whole week she wore a long
black dress, and her hair in a thin plait down her back. In the
church she had cried; whether it was the joy of feeling grown-up, or
because it was the custom to cry, would be difficult to say. But she
enjoyed the following week, when Lars Jensen's widow came and did
her work, while she made calls and received congratulations. She was
followed by a crowd of admiring girls, and small children of the
hamlet rushed out to her shouting: "Hi, give us a ha'penny!" Lars
Peter had to give all the halfpennies he could gather together.

The week over, she returned to her old duties. Ditte discovered that
she had been grown-up for several years; her duties were neither
heavier nor lighter. She soon got accustomed to her new estate; when
they were invited out, she would take her knitting with her and sit
herself with the grown-ups.

"Won't you go with the young people?" Lars Peter would say. "They're
playing on the green tonight." She went, but soon returned.

Lars Peter was getting used to things in the hamlet; at least he
only grumbled when he had been to the tap-room and was a little
drunk. He no longer looked after the house so well; when Ditte was
short of anything she had always to ask for it--and often more than
once. It was not the old Lars Peter of the Crow's Nest, who used to
say, "Well, how goes it, Ditte, got all you want?" Having credit at
the store had made him careless. When Ditte reproached him, he
answered: "Well, what the devil, a man never sees a farthing now,
and must take things as they come!"

The extraordinary thing about the inn-keeper was, that he seemed to
know everything. As long as Lars Peter