Ay, it looked as if things were going to be on a grander scale all round.  Here was a young foreman or manager in charge of the carting work; a lordly young spark he was, and grumbled at not getting horses enough, for all that there were not so many loads to come.

“But there can’t be so much more to come now, with the houses all up,” they said.

“Ho, and what about the goods?” he answered.

Sivert from Sellanraa came clattering up homeward, empty as usual, and the foreman called to him:  “Hi, what are you coming up empty for?  Why didn’t you bring up a load for us here?”

“Why, I might have,” said Sivert.  “But I’d no knowledge of it.”

“He’s from Sellanraa; they’ve two horses there,” some one whispered.

“What’s that?  You’ve got two horses?” says the foreman.  “Bring them down, then, the pair of them, to help with the cartage here.  We’ll pay you well.”

“Why,” says Sivert, “that’s none so bad, dare say.  But we’re pressed just now, and can’t spare the time.”

“What?  Can’t spare the time to make money!” says the foreman.

But they had not always time at Sellanraa, there was much to do on the place.  They had hired men to help—­the first time such a thing had ever been done at Sellanraa—­two stoneworkers from the Swedish side, to get out stone for a new cowshed.

This had been Isak’s great idea for years past, to build a proper cowshed.  The turf hut where the cattle were housed at present was too small, and out of repair; he would have a stone-built shed with double walls and a proper dung-pit under.  It was to be done now.  But there were many other things to be done as well, one thing always leading to another; the building work, at any rate, seemed never to be finished.  He had a sawmill and a cornmill and a summer shed for the cattle; it was but reasonable he should have a smithy.  Only a little place, for odd jobs as need arose; it was a long way to send down to the village when the sledge-hammer curled at the edges or a horseshoe or so wanted looking to.  Just enough to manage with, that was all—­and why shouldn’t he?  Altogether, there were many outbuildings, little and big, at Sellanraa.

The place is growing, getting bigger and bigger, a mighty big place at last.  Impossible now to manage without a girl to help, and Jensine has to stay on.  Her father, the blacksmith, asks after her now and again, if she isn’t coming home soon; but he does not make a point of it, being an easy-going man, and maybe with his own reasons for letting her stay.  And there is Sellanraa, farthest out of all the settlements, growing bigger and bigger all the time; the place, that is, the houses and the ground, only the folk are the same.  The day is gone when wandering Lapps could come to the house and get all they wanted for the asking; they come but rarely now, seem rather to go a long way round and keep out of sight; none are even seen inside the house, but wait without if