Canute could not endure this calmness.

“What is it that has come among us?” he cried.  “Us, who to this day have never debated but in love and upright zeal?  We are infuriated at each other as if incited by an evil spirit;” and he looked with fiery eyes upon Lars, who answered: 

“You yourself surely bring in this spirit, Canute, for I have spoken only of the case.  But you will look upon it only through your own self-will; now we shall see if your love and upright zeal will endure, when once it is decided agreeably to our wish.”

“Have I not, then, taken good care of the interests of the parish?”

No reply.  This grieved Canute, and he continued: 

“Really, I did not think otherwise than that I had accomplished something;—­something for the good of the parish;—­but may be I have deceived myself.”

He became excited again, for it was a fiery spirit within him, which was broken in many ways, and the parting with Lars grieved him, so he could hardly control himself.  Lars answered: 

“Yes, I know you give yourself the credit for all that is done here, and should one judge by much speaking in the meetings, then surely you have accomplished the most.”

“Oh, is it this!” shouted Canute, looking sharply upon Lars:  “it is you who have the honor of it!”

“Since we necessarily talk of ourselves,” replied Lars, “I will say that all matters have been carefully considered by us before they were introduced here.”

Here little Canute Aakre resumed his quick way of speaking: 

“In God’s name take the honor, I am content to live without it; there are other things harder to lose!”

Involuntarily Lars turned his eye from Canute, but said, the straw moving very quickly:  “If I were to speak my mind, I should say there is not much to take honor for;—­of course ministers and teachers may be satisfied with what has been done; but, certainly, the common men say only that up to this time the taxes have become heavier and heavier.”

A murmur arose in the assembly, which now became restless.  Lars continued: 

“Finally, to-day, a proposition is made which, if carried, would recompense the parish for all it has laid out; perhaps, for this reason, it meets such opposition.  It is the affair of the parish, for the benefit of all its inhabitants, and ought to be rescued from being a family matter.”  The audience exchanged glances, and spoke half audibly, when one threw out a remark as he rose to go to his dinner-pail, that these were “the truest words he had heard in the meetings for many years.”  Now all arose, and the conversation became general.  Canute Aakre felt as he sat there that the case was lost, fearfully lost; and tried no more to save it.  He had somewhat of the character attributed to Frenchmen, in that he was good for first, second, and third attacks, but poor for self-defence—­his sensibilities overpowering his thoughts.