Nille.  That is true, too.

Montanus.  Ergo:  little mother is a stone. (Nille cries.} Why are you crying, little mother?

Nille.  Oh!  I am so much afraid that I shall turn into a stone.  My legs already begin to feel cold.

Montanus.  Don’t worry, little mother.  I will immediately turn you into a human being again.  A stone neither thinks nor talks.

Nille.  That is so.  I don’t know whether it can think or not, but it surely cannot talk.

Montanus.  Little mother can talk.

Nille.  Yes, thank God, I talk as well as a poor peasant woman can!

Montanus.  Good!  Ergo:  little mother is no stone.

Nille.  Ah!  That did me good!  Now I am beginning to feel like myself again.  Faith, it must take strong heads to study.  I don’t see how your brains can stand it.—­Jacob, after this you shall wait on your brother; you have nothing else to do.  If your parents see that you annoy him, you shall get as many blows as your body can stand.

Montanus.  Little mother, I should like very much to break him of the habit of calling me “brother.”  It is not decent for a peasant boy to call a learned man “brother.”  I should like to have him call me “Monsieur.”

Jeppe.  Do you hear that, Jacob?  When you speak to your brother after this, you are to call him Mossur.

Montanus.  I should like to have the deacon invited here to-day, so that I can see what he is good for.

Jeppe.  Yes, surely, it shall be done.

Montanus.  In the mean time I will go to visit my sweetheart.

Nille.  But I am afraid it is going to rain.  Jacob can cany your cloak for you.

Montanus.  Jacob.

Jacob.  Yes, Mossur.

Montanus.  Walk behind me and carry my cloak.

[Exit Montanus followed by Jacob bearing the cloak.]

SCENE 4

Jeppe.  Haven’t we cause to be pleased with a son like that, Nille?

Nille.  Yes, indeed, not a penny has been wasted on him.

Jeppe.  We shall hear to-day what the deacon is good for.  But I am afraid that he won’t come if he hears that Rasmus Berg is here,—­there is no need of our letting him know that.  We will write the bailiff, too; he is glad enough to come, for he likes our ale.

Nille.  It is very dangerous, husband, to treat the bailiff; a man like that mustn’t find out how our affairs stand.

Jeppe.  He is welcome to know.  Every man here in the village is aware that we are well-to-do folks.  As long as we pay our taxes and land rent, the bailiff can’t touch a hair of our head.

Nille.  Oh, dear husband, I wonder if it is too late to let our Jacob get an education.  Just think, if he could be a learned lad like his brother, what a joy it would be for his old parents!