“Birds there greet you from the trees,
          Gossip seeks the valley;
      Purer, sweeter grows the breeze,
          As you upward sally. 
      Fill your lungs, and onward rove,
          Ever gayly singing,
      Childhood’s memories, heath and grove,
          Rosy-hued, are bringing.

     “Pause the shady groves among,
          Hear yon mighty roaring,
      Solitude’s majestic song
          Upward far is soaring. 
      All the world’s distraction comes
          When there rolls a pebble;
      Each forgotten duty hums
          In the brooklet’s treble.

     “Pray, while overhead, dear heart,
          Anxious mem’ries hover;
      Then go on:  the better part
          You’ll above discover. 
      Who hath chosen Christ as guide,
          Daniel and Moses,
      Finds contentment far and wide,
          And in peace reposes."[1]

[Footnote 1:  Auber Forestier’s translation.]

Ole had sat down and covered his face with his hands.

“Here I will talk with you,” said the school-master, and seated himself by his side.

Down at Pladsen, Oyvind had just returned home from a somewhat long journey, the post-boy was still at the door, as the horse was resting.  Although Oyvind now had a good income as agriculturist of the district, he still lived in his little room down at Pladsen, and helped his parents every spare moment.  Pladsen was cultivated from one end to the other, but it was so small that Oyvind called it “mother’s toy-farm,” for it was she, in particular, who saw to the farming.

He had changed his clothes, his father had come in from the mill, white with meal, and had also dressed.  They just stood talking about taking a short walk before supper, when the mother came in quite pale.

“Here are singular strangers coming up to the house; oh dear! look out!”

Both men turned to the window, and Oyvind was the first to exclaim:—­

“It is the school-master, and—­yes, I almost believe—­why, certainly it is he!”

“Yes, it is old Ole Nordistuen,” said Thore, moving away from the window that he might not be seen; for the two were already near the door.

Just as Oyvind was leaving the window he caught the school-master’s eye, Baard smiled, and cast a glance back at old Ole, who was laboring along with his staff in small, short steps, one foot being constantly raised higher than the other.  Outside the school-master was heard to say, “He has recently returned home, I suppose,” and Ole to exclaim twice over, “Well, well!”

They remained a long time quiet in the passage.  The mother had crept up to the corner where the milk-shelf was; Oyvind had assumed his favorite position, that is, he leaned with his back against the large table, with his face toward the door; his father was sitting near him.  At length there came a knock at the door, and in stepped the school-master, who drew off his hat, afterward Ole, who pulled off his cap, and then turned to shut the door.  It took him a long time to do so; he was evidently embarrassed.  Thore rising, asked them to be seated; they sat down, side by side, on the bench in front of the window.  Thore took his seat again.