made light and warmth in his mind. Drive ahead then.

When it came to making the iron ribbons for the sleigh runners he had
to go across to the smithy; and there stood a cottar at work roughing
horseshoes. Red glowing iron once more, and steel. The clang of hammer
on anvil seemed to tear his ears; yet it drew him on too. It was long
since last he heard that sound. And there were memories.

"Want this welded, Jens? Where's the borax? Look here, this is the way
of it."

"Might ha' been born and bred a smith," said Jens, as he watched the
deft and easy hammer-strokes.

Christmas Eve came, and the grey farm-pony dragged up a big wooden case
to the door. Peer opened it and carried in the things--a whole heap of
good things for Christmas from the Ringeby relations.

He bit his lips when he saw all the bags piled up on the kitchen table.
There had been a time not long ago when Merle and he had loaded up a
sledge at the Loreng storehouse and driven off with Christmas gifts to
all the poor folk round. It was part of the season's fun for them. And
now--now they must even be glad to receive presents themselves.

"Merle--have WE nothing we can give away this year?"

"I don't know. What do you think?"

"A poor man's Christmas it'll be with a vengeance--if we're only to take
presents, and haven't the least little thing to give away."

Merle sighed. "We must hope it won't happen to us again," she said.

"I won't have it happen to us now," he said, pacing up and down.
"There's that poor devil of a joiner down at Moen, with consumption. I'm
going down there with a bit of a parcel to chuck in at his door, if I
have to take your shift and the shirt off my back. You know yourself it
won't be any Christmas at all, if we don't do something."

"Well--if you like. I'll see if we can't find something among the
children's clothes that they can do without."

The end of it was that Merle levied toll on all the parcels from home,
both rice and raisins and cakes, and made up little packets of them to
send round by him. That was Merle's way; let her alone and she would hit
upon something.

The snow creaked and crackled underfoot as Peer went off on his errand.
A starry sky and a biting wind, and light upon light from the windows of
the farms scattered over the dark hillsides. High above all, against the
sky, there was one little gleam that might be a cottage window, or might
be a star.

Peer was flushed and freshened up when he came