"I don't spare mine either. It'll take something to make a man of
such rubbish; punishment's half what he lives on. Then I'll send him
up here first thing to-morrow morning; but take care he doesn't show
himself in the yard, or there'll be no end of a row!"

"The mistress can't bear to see him, I suppose?" said Lasse.

"You're just about right. She's had nothing to do with the making of
that scarecrow. Though you wouldn't think there was much there to be
jealous about! But I might have been a farmer's wife at this moment
and had a nice husband too, if that high and mighty peacock up there
hadn't seduced me. Would you believe that, you cracked old piece of
shoe-leather?" she asked with a laugh, slapping his knee with her
hand.

"I can believe it very well," said Lasse. "For you were as pretty
a girl as might be when you left home."

"Oh, you and your 'home'," she said, mimicking him.

"Well, I can see that you don't want to leave any footmarks behind
you, and I can quite well pretend to be a stranger, even if I have
held you upon my knee more than once when you were a little thing.
But do you know that your mother's lying on her deathbed?"

"Oh no! Oh no!" she exclaimed, turning to him a face that was
becoming more and more distorted.

"I went to say good-bye to her before I left home rather more than
a month ago, and she was very ill. 'Good-bye, Lasse,' she said, 'and