hard to
get into sometimes."

"Oh, I'll get on all right," answered Ditte--rather more bravely
than she really felt.

"Ay, you're clever enough for your age, but it's not always that.
You must always show a good-tempered face--whether you feel it or
not. It's what's expected from folks that earn their bread."

"If anything happens, I'll just give them a piece of my mind."

"Ay, but don't be too ready with your mouth! The truth's not always
wanted, and least of all from a servant: the less they have to say
the better they get on. Just you keep quiet and think what you
like--that no-one can forbid you. And then you know, you've always
got a home here if you're turned out of your place. You must never
leave before your term is up; it's a bad thing to do--whatever you
do it for. Rather bear a little unfairness."

"But can't I stand up for my rights?" Ditte did not understand.

"Ay, so you ought--but what is your right? Anyone that's got the
power gets the right on his side, that's often proved. But you'll be
all right if you're sensible and put your back to the wall."

* * * * *

Then came the last night. Ditte had spent the day saying good-by in
the different huts. She could have found a better way to spend these
last precious hours, but it was a necessary evil, and if she did not
do it they would talk of it behind her back. The three little ones
followed close at her heels.

"You mustn't come in," said she. "We can't all go, there's too many,
they'll think we want to be treated to something."

So they hid themselves nearby, while she was inside, and went with
her to the next house; today they _would_ be near her. And they had
been so the whole day long. The walk along the beach out to the
Naze, where they could see the hill-farm had come to nothing. It was
too late, and Ditte had to retract her promise. It cost some tears.
The farm where Ditte was going out to service played a strong part
in their imagination. They were only comforted, when their father
promised that on Sunday morning he would take them for a row.

"Out there you can see the hill-farm and all the land round about
it, and maybe Ditte'll be standing there and waving to us," he said.

"Isn't it really further off than that?" asked Ditte.

"Oh, it's about fourteen miles, so of course you'd have to have good
eyes," answered Lars Peter, trying to smile. He was not in the humor
for fun.

Now at last the three lit