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She placed the two children in front of him, and he looked up, blinking as if he had looked at the sun. It seemed as if his little, blurred eyes could not meet those of the children, which were big, clear and innocent. "Look at them, Ruster!" repeated Liljekrona's wife.
But he was out of spirits and disgusted by him, like every one else, although he would not let it be seen, for old friendship and hospitality were sacred to him. In Liljekrona's house for three weeks now they had been preparing to receive Christmas.
Ruster grew eager; he lifted the little boys up, each on one of his knees, and began to teach them. Liljekrona's wife went out and in and listened quite in amazement. It sounded like a game, and the children were laughing the whole time, but they learned. Ruster kept on for a while, but he was absent from what he was doing. He was turning over the old thoughts from out in the storm.
He had not been at all conscious that the stable-boy had grown tired of driving about in the storm and had turned home. Nor did he understand why he was now so well received in Liljekrona's house. He could not know that Liljekrona's wife understood what a weary journey he had made that Christmas Eve, when he had been turned away from every door where he had knocked.
It was good and pleasant, but nevertheless it was the end of him. He was worn .out. He ought to be thrown away. And all of a sudden he put his hands before his face and began to weep. Liljekrona's wife came quickly up to him. "Ruster," she said, "I can understand that you think that all is over for you. You cannot make a living with your music, and you are destroying yourself with brandy.
Then he kissed his wife's hand as gently as a child who asks for forgiveness and cried aloud: "All the children must come and kiss their mother's hand." They did so, and then they had a happy Christmas in Liljekrona's house. There was once, nearly eighty years ago, a little boy who went out into the market-place to spin his top. The little boy's name was Reuben.
"I dare not," said Ruster, for it was like a purgatory to look through the beautiful child eyes to the unspotted beauty of their souls. Liljekrona's wife laughed loud and joyously. "Then you must accustom yourself to them, Ruster. You can stay in my house as schoolmaster this year." Liljekrona heard his wife laugh and came out of his room. "What is it?" he said. "What is it?"
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