the part
singing.

"They did not know there was such a thing as sorrow in the world, for no
one had ever mentioned it to them. But one day their mother died. Then
they had to learn how to keep the fire on the hearth, and to smoke the
fish, and make the black coffee. And also they had to learn how to live
when there is sorrow at the heart.

"They wept together at night for lack of their mother's kisses, and in
the morning they were loath to rise because they could not see her face.
The dead cold eye of the sea watching them from among the lava rocks
made them afraid, so they hung a shawl over the window to keep it out.
And the house, try as they would, did not look clean and cheerful as it
had used to do when their mother sang and worked about it.

"One day, when a mist rested over the eye of the sea, like that which
one beholds on the eyes of the blind, a greater sorrow came to them, for
a stepmother crossed the threshold. She looked at Jon and Loa, and made
complaint to their father that they were still very small and not likely
to be of much use. After that they had to rise earlier than ever, and to
work as only those who have their growth should work, till their hearts
cracked for weariness and shame. They had not much to eat, for their
stepmother said she would trust to the gratitude of no other woman's
child, and that she believed in laying up against old age. So she put
the few coins that came to the house in a strong box, and bought little
food. Neither did she buy the children clothes, though those which their
dear mother had made for them were so worn that the warp stood apart
from the woof, and there were holes at the elbows and little warmth to
be found in them anywhere.

"Moreover, the quilts on their beds were too short for their growing
length, so that at night either their purple feet or their thin
shoulders were uncovered, and they wept for the cold, and in the
morning, when they crept into the larger room to build the fire, they
were so stiff they could not stand straight, and there was pain at their
joints.

"The wife scolded all the time, and her brow was like a storm sweeping
down from the Northwest. There was no peace to be had in the house.
The children might not repeat to each other the sagas their mother had
taught them, nor try their part singing, nor make little doll cradles of
rushes. Always they had to work, always they were scolded, always their
clothes grew thinner.

"'Stepmother,'