“But of course you make a fuss, and say you won’t, but you give in after a bit—­it’s easy enough.  You’ve only to sit down, and say ‘Tack, Tack’ in Swedish whenever I pass you anything.

“The men are at work about the fire as we come up.  And you’re all excitement, and red and white by turns, just like any grand lady from foreign parts.  And I tell them the same thing again, about you putting on country clothes and all that, and ask if we may sit down—­and perhaps the foreign young lady might like to eat a morsel too.

“‘We’ve naught that’s fit to offer the likes of her,’ say the men.

“‘She can eat what other folks can, I suppose,’ say I.

“Then they all tumble over one another to make a nice seat for you with twigs of pine.  Then we sit down, and I’m on the outside, in case you want anything.

“Oh, it’s grand.  The fire flames up, and the snow melting like butter all round and under, and the men’s faces all aglow.  One of them’s roasting a piece of meat, another fish, on a skewer, and the others bring out their frozen bread and thaw it soft and fresh as if it had just come out of the oven.  And I do the same, toasting a piece of meat and thawing some bread, and put one on the other and cut up your part with my knife, to neat little bits all ready.

“And the men are all so interested they forget to eat.

“‘I hope it’s to your taste, my lady?’ That’s me talking in Swedish as I pass it.  And you nod and smile, and eat just a little to try, and the moment you’ve tasted it you open your mouth and I know as sure as anything you’re just on the point of saying right out in Finnish that it’s first-rate, and you’ve never tasted anything so good....  So I have to put in a word myself or you’ll spoil it all.  ’A little more, if you please, my lady?’ Like that.”

But here the girl could contain herself no longer, and laughed outright.

“What are you laughing at?  That’s not right a bit.  No, you just blush, and go on nibbling at a crust of bread, just like a tiny mouse....

“And the men nudge each other to look.  Here’s a fine lady sitting down to eat as natural as can be, for all there’s neither plate nor fork.  And it’s all I can do to keep from laughing myself, and you have to bite your lips and bend down behind me.

“Then I take out our milk bottle, that’s been warming by the fire.

“‘How’ll they manage now?’ says one, and all the rest look on to see.

“’Why, we’ll just have to share and share about, unless the lady’s to go without,’ say I. And then I make believe to whisper something in your ear.

“And you nod, and take the bottle and drink, and hand it to me after.

“‘’Tis as good as newly milked,’ say I. And you laugh, and the men laugh too.

“Then I take a drink, and you again.  I wipe the mouth of the bottle on my sleeve each time before giving it you.  And the men, of course, they think that’s a mighty fine way of doing things.