as a jester, but was evidently anything
else. He paused at his mother's side and asked her some question. He
spoke in French. The lady, who was annoyed by Tande's foolish shyness,
addressed the boy in his native tongue. The little fellow came forward,
but merely to pause at a short distance and stand viewing her with an
expression of dignified inquiry. This amused her, and taking out her
purse she handed him quite a large coin.

"_Merci, Madame!_" said he, making a low bow.

"Kiss the lady's hand!" commanded the old man. The boy obeyed, with shy
haste. Then he ran back to the tent, whence was heard the barking of
dogs.

Suddenly there arose a commotion in the crowd behind those who were
seated. A woman with a child three or four years old in her arms was
trying to push her way forward. She could not stand and hold the child
forever, she said; she wanted to sit down. She was quite as good as any
one else present.

But there seemed to be no seat vacant except on the front bench. So to
the front bench she went, to the great sport of the multitude; for she
was well known. She was no other than "Machine Martha." Two years before
she had come to the Point with a child and a large and a small
sewing-machine, with which she supported herself, for she was capable.
She had deserted her husband with an itinerant tradesman, who dealt,
among other things, in sewing-machines. He had deceived her. Since then
she had fallen into wretched habits of drunkenness, and had become
thoroughly degraded. Her face was rough and her hair disheveled.
Nevertheless, she still seemed to have sufficient energy left to raise a
storm. She seated herself directly beside the lady, who shrank away, for
Martha smelled strongly of beer.

The old juggler had noticed the involuntary movement the lady made. He
was on hand at once, and, in a hoarse, rough voice, ordered Martha to
take another place.

She must have been abashed herself by all the silk she had come into
contact with, for she now got up and moved away.

As she was watching her Magnhild descried Skarlie. At his side Martha
paused. Soon she came forward again. "I will sit there, I tell you,"
said she, and resuming her seat she placed the child on the bench beside
her.

The old juggler left his preparations. He had grown angry. "You
cursed"--here he must have remembered the fine company he was in, for he
continued: "It costs money to sit here." He spoke Swedish.

"Here is a mark!" said the