The effect produced by his address was very considerable.  But Lars had firmly resolved, come what would, to keep cool, and smilingly replied that he supposed Canute Aakre himself had been anxious for the railroad, and surely no one would accuse him of understanding speculation. (A little laugh ensued.) Canute had had no objection to the removal of bodies of common people for the sake of the railroad, but when it came to that of his own grandfather, the question became suddenly of vital importance to the whole parish.  He said no more, but looked smilingly at Canute, as did also several others.  Meanwhile, Canute Aakre surprised both him and them by replying: 

“I confess it; I did not realize what was at stake until it touched my own dead; possibly this is a shame, but really it would have been a greater one not even then to have realized it, as is the case with Lars!  Never, I think, could Lars’ raillery have been more out of place; for folks with common feelings the thing is really revolting.”

“This feeling has come up quite recently,” answered Lars, “and so we will hope for its speedy disappearance also.  It may be well to think upon what minister, bishop, county officers, engineers, and Department will say, if we first unanimously set the ball in motion and then come asking to have it stopped; if we first are jubilant and sing songs, then weep and chant requiems.  If they do not say that we have run mad here in the parish, at least they may say that we have grown a little queer lately.”

“Yes, God knows, they can say so,” answered Canute; “we have been acting strangely enough during the last few days,—­it is time for us to retract.  It has really gone far when we can dig up, each his own grandfather, to make way for a railroad; when in order that our loads may be carried more easily forward, we can violate the resting-place of the dead.  For is not overhauling our churchyard the same as making it yield us food?  What has been buried there in Jesus’ name, shall we take up in the name of Mammon?  It is but little better than eating our progenitors’ bones.”

“That is according to the order of nature,” said Lars dryly.

“Yes, the nature of plants and animals,” replied Canute.

“Are we not then animals?” asked Lars.

“Yes, but also the children of the living God, who have buried our dead in faith upon Him; it is He who shall raise them, and not we.”

“Oh, you prate!  Are not the graves dug over at certain fixed periods anyway?  What evil is there in that it happens some years earlier?” asked Lars.

“I will tell you!  What was born of them yet lives; what they built yet remains; what they loved, taught, and suffered for is all around us and within us; and shall we not, then, let their bodies rest in peace?”

“I see by your warmth that you are thinking of your grandfather again,” replied Lars; “and will say it is high time you ceased to bother the parish about him, for he monopolized space enough in his lifetime; it isn’t worth while to have him lie in the way now he is dead.  Should his corpse prevent a blessing to the parish that would reach to a hundred generations, we surely would have reason to say, that of all born here he has done us most harm.”