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Anyhow, I'll do what I can to keep up Koskela as it's always been." And the elder brother began once more drumming with his fingers, faster this time, and as it were more firmly. Suddenly he sprang up. "They ought to finish that field to-day I must see they don't stop work before it's done." He left the room and hurried across the courtyard.
"From Kylanpaa in Hirviyoki I don't know if you've heard of the place." "I have been there, years ago," said the old man in a kindlier tone, taking a step towards him. "And what's the name of your place there?" he asked. "Koskela." "Koskela? That's a big place." "Why, 'tis big enough," said Olof. "And why didn't you say that before when you were here last?" said the old man sharply.
"You knew him, maybe?" asked the lad, watching the man's face. "Ay, I knew him," came the answer in a stifled voice. "And his wife's like to follow him soon," went on the boy. "She's at the last gasp now, they say." The wanderer felt as if something were tightening about his heart. "So there's neither man nor wife, so to speak, at Koskela now."
The porch seemed glowering at them like a questioning eye as they came up. Olof started, and the blood rushed to his head. "Who comes here?" queried the porch. "'Tis the mistress of Koskela, or should be. And who is it walks behind, hanging his head? Surely not her son?" "Ay, 'tis her son, never fear," said the broad window above, grinning all the length of the wall.
"A nice bit of ground and there's all the clay you'll need ready to hand. But it'll cost a deal of hard work to drain and clear it I've thought over that many a time. As for the building timber you shall have all you want, and help for the carting. But all the same, we must fix a price for Koskela as a whole, and make a fair division." "There's nothing to divide, I tell you.
Once we are agreed, ten fathers could make no difference. I feel now that I can do what I will. "And that is all for now, Kyllikki. You know how anxiously I wait to hear from you your answer means very much to me. But I know it will be clear and true, whichever way it may be. "My address is, Olof Koskela, as above." "KOHISEVA, 2 Oct. 1897. "OLOF, Your letter found me.
Going to have a real stove, with a baking oven and all.... Then there's been another wedding besides, at Niemi Annikki's it was. Only just married though there's been plenty that asked her these years past, and rich men some of them too." "Yes...." The wanderer felt as if something had struck him in the breast. Impatiently he went on: "And how's things at Koskela?"
Olof rose and followed his brother to the door, watching him as he strode along, with head bowed forward a little and arms swinging briskly at his sides. "Each works best in his own way," he said to himself, smiling affectionately at the thought. "And maybe his way's like to be better for Koskela than they ever thought."
Olof flushed angrily, and he would have spoken, but the noble dignity of his mother's glance checked the thought ere it was uttered. "Go now," she said gently. "We will talk of this another time." The early meal was over, and the farm hands pressed out through the door. "You, Olof, stay behind," said the master of Koskela from his seat at the head of the table. "I've a word to say to you."
There's no one like you in all the world. "And we go home the very next week. And all turns out just as you said more live stock, new ground sown, clover where there was but marsh before, and Koskela is grown to a splendid place, known far and wide. And we are so happy with you to keep house and me to work the land. And the years go by and we grow old, but our children.... "... Oh, misery!
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