your presence to make me happy.'

Upon this, Gudbrand opened the door;--'Well! neighbor Peter, what do you
say to that? Go, now, and bring me your twenty crowns!' So saying,
Gudbrand hugged and kissed his wife with as much fervor and heartiness
as though he and she had just been wedded, in the bloom of youth.

PART III.

But the narrative does not end with the events described in the last
chapter. There is a reverse to every medal, and even daylight would not
be so charming were it not followed by night. However good and perfect
woman may, generally, be, there are some who by no means share the easy
disposition of Gudbrand's better half. Need I say that the fault is,
usually, in the husband? If he were only to yield, on all occasions,
would he be troubled? Yield? exclaim some fierce moustachioed
individuals. Yes, indeed, yield, or hear the penalty that awaits you.

PART IV.

PETER THE GRAYBEARD.

Peter the Graybeard did not at all resemble Gudbrand. He was
self-willed, imperious, passionate, and had no more patience than a dog
when you snatch away his bone or a cat when you're trying to strangle
her. He would have been insufferable, had not Heaven, in its mercy,
given him a wife who was a match for him. She was headstrong,
quarrelsome, discontented and morose--always ready to keep quiet when
her husband preserved silence, and just as ready to scream at the top of
her voice the moment he opened his mouth.

It was great good fortune for Peter to have such a spouse. Without her,
would he ever have known that patience is not the merit of fools?

One day, in the mowing Season, when he came home, after a fifteen hours'
spell of hard work, in worse humor than usual, and was swearing, cursing
and execrating all women and their laziness, because his soup was not
yet ready for him, his wife exclaimed,--

'Good Lord! Peter, you talk away at a fine rate. Would you like to
change places? To-morrow, I will mow, instead of you, and you stay at
home here and play housekeeper. Then, we'll see which of us will have
the hardest task and come out of it the best.'

'Agreed!' thundered Peter; 'you'll have a chance to find out, once for
all, what a poor husband has to suffer. The trial will teach you a
lesson of respect--something you greatly need.'

So, the next morning, at day-break, the wife set out afield with the
rake over her shoulder and the sickle by her side, all joyous at the
sight of the bright sunshine, and sing