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What the rest of the fellows may have done, I cannot say." "But he has brought thee something, Stina," continued Ermentrude. "Show it to her, brother." "My father sends you this for your care of my sister," said Eberhard, holding out a brooch that had doubtless fastened the band of the unfortunate wine-merchant's bonnet.

Fylax was barking on the steps, and when he saw Little Lasse he wagged his tail. Old Stina was milking the cows in the farmyard, and there was a very familiar lady in a check woollen shawl on her way to the bleaching green to see if the clothes were bleached.

Some had gone into the barns to look over the live stock; others remained out in the yard examining the farm implements placed there for inspection. Mother Stina on seeing a couple of peasant women come out of a cowshed grew indignant. "Just look at Mother Inga and Mother Stava!" she muttered. "Now they've been in and picked out a cow apiece.

Presently he stopped in front of a little old man with a big beard, who was sitting on the same pile of boards as Mother Stina. "I don't suppose you happen to know, Strong Ingmar, whether Ingmar Ingmarsson has decided to buy the timber I offered him?" "He says no," the old man answered, "but I shouldn't be surprised if he were to change his mind soon."

No one listened now to the cries of the auctioneer, but everybody crowded around Ingmar to wish him happiness peasants and gentlefolk, friends and strangers, alike. Ingmar, standing there, surrounded by all these happy people, suddenly looked up. He then saw Mother Stina, standing a little apart from the others, her eyes fixed on him. She was very pale, and looked old and poor.

At the same time he winked and jerked his thumb in the direction of Mother Stina, thus cautioning Sven Persson not to let her hear what they were talking about. "I should think he'd be satisfied to accept my terms," said the Judge. "I don't make these offers everyday; but this I'm doing for Big Ingmar's sake."

"Stina, Stina, don't cry; I will not tell my mother! Come out, and finish my kerchief! Come out! No one shall beat you." "That is not what I wept for, lady," said Christina. "I do not think you would bring harm on me. But oh! I would I were at home! I grieve for the bloodshed that I must see and may not hinder, and for that poor merchant." "Oh," said Ermentrude, "you need not fear for him!

It had been formed by one of those torrents of stones cast up by the eruptions, and of which the Icelandic name is stina. If this singular torrent had not been checked in its descent by the peculiar shape of the flanks of the mountain, it would have swept into the sea, and would have formed new islands. Such as it was, it served us admirably.

"You see, they don't mind his being poor, because he belongs to such a good family." "Anyway, there's some advantage in being the son of Big Ingmar." "It would indeed have been a good thing if Gertrude had had a little, so that she could have given him a lift," thought Mother Stina.

Saturday evening the four young people stood on the steps of the schoolhouse, ready to start. Mother Stina looked them over approvingly. The boys had on yellow buckskin breeches and green homespun waistcoats, with bright red sleeves.