“But while he was down in Skane, a couple of heavy showers had come up, and more was not needed to show what his work amounted to.  When our Lord came to inspect the land, all the soil had been washed away, and the naked mountain foundation shone forth all over.  Where it was about the best, lay clay and heavy gravel over the rocks, but it looked so poor that it was easy to understand that hardly anything except spruce and juniper and moss and heather could grow there.  But what there was plenty of was water.  It had filled up all the clefts in the mountain; and lakes and rivers and brooks; these one saw everywhere, to say nothing of swamps and morasses, which spread over large tracts.  And the most exasperating thing of all was, that while some tracts had too much water, it was so scarce in others, that whole fields lay like dry moors, where sand and earth whirled up in clouds with the least little breeze.

“‘What can have been your meaning in creating such a land as this?’ said our Lord.  Saint Peter made excuses, and declared he had wished to build up a land so high that it should have plenty of warmth from the sun.  ‘But then you will also get much of the night chill,’ said our Lord, ’for that too comes from heaven.  I am very much afraid the little that can grow here will freeze.’

“This, to be sure, Saint Peter hadn’t thought about.

“‘Yes, here it will be a poor and frost-bound land,’ said our Lord, ’it can’t be helped.’”

When little Mats had gotten this far in his story, Osa, the goose-girl, protested:  “I cannot bear, little Mats, to hear you say that it is so miserable in Smaland,” said she.  “You forget entirely how much good soil there is there.  Only think of Moere district, by Kalmar Sound!  I wonder where you’ll find a richer grain region.  There are fields upon fields, just like here in Skane.  The soil is so good that I cannot imagine anything that couldn’t grow there.”

“I can’t help that,” said little Mats.  “I’m only relating what others have said before.”

“And I have heard many say that there is not a more beautiful coast land than Tjust.  Think of the bays and islets, and the manors, and the groves!” said Osa.  “Yes, that’s true enough,” little Mats admitted.  “And don’t you remember,” continued Osa, “the school teacher said that such a lively and picturesque district as that bit of Smaland which lies south of Lake Vettern is not to be found in all Sweden?  Think of the beautiful sea and the yellow coast-mountains, and of Grenna and Joenkoeping, with its match factory, and think of Huskvarna, and all the big establishments there!” “Yes, that’s true enough,” said little Mats once again.  “And think of Visingsoe, little Mats, with the ruins and the oak forests and the legends!  Think of the valley through which Eman flows, with all the villages and flour-mills and sawmills, and the carpenter shops!” “Yes, that is true enough,” said little Mats, and looked troubled.