Jeppe.  What are the Russians doing here again?

Peer.  These aren’t Muscovites, Jeppe Berg, but young students, who are called “Russes.”

Jeppe.  Oh, I see.  I suppose there is a great celebration on the days when the boys get their salt and bread and become students.

Peer.  When do you expect him home?

Jeppe.  To-day or to-morrow.  Wait a bit, my dear Peer; I will run and tell Nille to bring us out a drink of ale.

Peer.  I’d rather have a glass of brandy—­it’s early in the day to drink ale. [Exit Jeppe into house.

SCENE 3

Peer.  To tell the truth, I am not very anxious to have Rasmus Berg come home.  Not that I am afraid of his learning, for I was an old student when he was still at school, getting beatings—­saving your presence—­on his rump.  They were different fellows who graduated in my time from what they are now.  I graduated from Slagelse School with Peer Monsen, Rasmus Jespersen, Christen Klim, Mads Hansen,—­whom we used to call Mads Pancake in school,—­Poul Iversen,—­whom we called Poul Barlycorn,—­all boys with bone in their skulls and beards on their chins, able to argue on any subject that might come up.  I’m only a deacon, but I’m content so long as I get my daily bread and understand my office.  I have made the income a deal bigger, and get more than any of my predecessors did; so my successors won’t curse me in my grave.  People think that there are no fine points for a deacon to know, but I can tell you a deacon’s position is a hard one if you want to keep it on such a footing that it will support a man.  Before my time people here in the village thought one funeral-song as good as another, but I have arranged things so that I can say to a peasant, “Which hymn will you have?  This one costs so much and this one so much;” and when it comes to scattering earth on the body, “Will you have fine sand or just common or garden dirt?” Then there are various other touches that my predecessor, Deacon Christoffer, had no idea of; but he was uneducated.  I can’t understand how the fellow ever came to be a deacon; yet deacon he was, all the same.  I tell you, Latin helps a man a great deal in every sort of business.  I wouldn’t give up the Latin I know for a hundred rix-dollars.  It has been worth more than a hundred rix-dollars to me in my business; yes, that and a hundred more.

SCENE 4

Enter Nille and Jeppe.

Nille (offering the deacon a glass of brandy).  Your health, Peer!

Peer.  Thank you, mother.  I never drink brandy unless I have a stomach-ache, but I have a bad stomach most of the time.

Nille.  Do you know, Peer, my son is coming home to-day or to-morrow!  You’ll find him a man you can talk to, for the boy’s not tongue-tied, from all I hear.