to be able to give a
grand spread on the day he was at home. And then it was nothing but
eat, eat the whole time! He and his family were hardly out of the
wagon before they were served with coffee and all kinds of tempting
appetizers. And later came the dinner to all the neighbours with a
fish course, a meat course, and game, and rice-cakes, and fruit-mold
with whipped cream, and quantities of wines and spirits. It was
enough to make one weep! He and his wife did nothing to encourage
this foolishness. On the contrary, they brought with them only such
plain fare as they were accustomed to have every day; but for all
that they could not escape the feasting. Sometimes they felt that
rather than let the old man ruin himself on their account they
might better remain away altogether. Yet they feared to do so, lest
their good intentions should be misinterpreted.

And what a strange company they were thrown in with at these
Parties--old blacksmiths and fishermen and backwoodsmen! If such
good, substantial folk as the Falla family had not been in the
habit of coming, too, there would have been no one there with whom
they could have exchanged a word.

Ol' Bengtsa's son had liked the late Eric of Falla best, but he
also entertained in a high regard for Lars Gunnarson, the present
master of Falla. Lars Gunnarson came of rather obscure people, but
he was a man who had the good sense to marry well, and who would
doubtless forge ahead and gain for himself both wealth and
position. When the old man told his son that Lars Gunnarson was not
likely to come to the party this year, the latter was very much
disappointed.

"But it's no fault of mine," Ol' Bengsta declared. "Lars isn't
exactly my kind, but all the same, on your account, I went down to
Falla yesterday and invited him."

"Maybe he's weary of these parties," said the son.

"Oh, no," returned Ol' Bengtsa. "I'm sure he'd be only too glad to
come, but there's something that's keeping him away." He did not
explain further just then, but while they were having their coffee,
he went back to the subject. "You mustn't feel so badly because
Lars isn't coming this evening," he said. "I don't believe you'd
care for his company any more."

"You don't mean that he has taken to drink?"

"That wasn't such a bad guess! He took to it suddenly in the
spring, and since Midsummer Day he hasn't drawn a sober breath."

During these visits the father and son immediately they had
finished t