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Updated: May 29, 2025
They were not far from the tree in whose top was perched little Knut Ostistuen, gathering leaves for his father, and they were compelled to listen to the boy: "When on mountain peaks you hie, 'Mid green slopes to tarry, In your scrip pray no more tie, Than you well can carry. Take no hindrances along To the crystal fountains; Drown them in a cheerful song, Send them down the mountains.
He set it aside. He paused, and looking at the school-master, said, "This is the way it is every single day." As they proceeded upward they heard a merry song from the slopes. "Why, they are singing over their work," said the school-master. "That is little Knut Ostistuen who is singing; he is helping his father gather leaves. Over yonder my people are working; you will not find them singing."
"That is not one of the parish songs, is it?" "No, it is not." "Oyvind Pladsen has been much in Ostistuen; perhaps that is one of the songs he has introduced into the parish, for there is always singing where he is." There was no reply to this. The field they were crossing was not in good condition; it required attention. The school-master commented on this, and then Ole stopped.
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