ew bigger, and wanted to smell nice
for going to church, the thing was to rub oneself with a little tansy
that grew on the hillside. Father was full of wisdom. He taught the
boys about stones, about flint, how that the white stone was harder
than the grey; but when he had found a flint, he must also make
tinder. Then he could strike fire with it. He taught them about the
moon, how when you can grip in the hollow side with your left hand
it is waxing, and grip in with the right, it's on the wane; remember
that, boys! Now and again, Isak would go too far, and grow mysterious;
one Friday he declared that it was harder for a camel to enter the
kingdom of heaven than for a human being to thread the eye of a
needle. Another time, telling them of the glory of the angels,
he explained that angels had stars set in their heels instead of
hob-nails. Good and simple teaching, well fitted for settlers in the
wilds; the schoolmaster in the village would have laughed at it all,
but Isak's boys found good use for it in their inner life. They were
trained and taught for their own little world, and what could be
better? In the autumn, when animals were to be killed, the lads were
greatly curious, and fearful, and heavy at heart for the ones that
were to die. There was Isak holding with one hand, and the other ready
to strike; Oline stirred the blood. The old goat was led out, bearded
and wise; the boys stood peeping round the corner. "Filthy cold wind
this time," said Eleseus, and turned away to wipe his eyes. Little
Sivert cried more openly, could not help calling out: "Oh, poor old
goat!" When the goat was killed, Isak came up to them and gave them
this lesson: "Never stand around saying 'Poor thing' and being pitiful
when things are being killed. It makes them tough and harder to kill.
Remember that!"

So the years passed, and now it was nearing spring again.

Inger had written home to say she was well, and was learning a lot
of things where she was. Her little girl was big, and was called
Leopoldine, after the day she was born, the 15th November. She knew
all sorts of things, and was a genius at hemstitch and crochet,
wonderful fine work she could do on linen or canvas.

The curious thing about this letter was that Inger had written and
spelt it all herself. Isak was not so learned but that he had to get
it read for him down in the village, by the man at the store; but once
he had got it into his head it stayed there; he knew it o