"Yes, it is as large as the captain's large horse," answered he, and went on talking to her. It was bound with iron chains, he said, and had even broken the one that had been put about its fore-legs. He could see distinctly that it was alive, and the blood was flowing from it like a waterfall. Of course, this was not true; but they forgot that when they caught sight of the bear, the rifle, and Niels, who sat there with bandaged wounds after the fight with the bear, and when they heard old Lars the hunter tell how all had happened. So eagerly, and with so much interest did they look and listen, that they did not observe that some one came behind them who also began to tell his story, and that in the following manner:-- "I will teach you to leave the school without my permission, that I will!" A cry of fright arose from the whole crowd, and out through the door, through the veranda, and out into the yard they ran. Soon they appeared like a lot of black balls, rolling one by one, over the snow-white field, and when the school-master on his old legs followed them to the school-house, he could hear the children reading from afar off; they read until the walls fairly rattled. Aye, that was a glorious day, the day when the bear-hunter came home! It began in sunshine and ended in rain, but such days are usually the best growing days. THE FATHER. The man whose story is here to be told was the wealthiest and most influential person in his parish; his name was Thord Oeveraas. He appeared in the priest's study one day, tall and earnest. "I have gotten a son," said he, "and I wish to present him for baptism." "What shall his name be?" "Finn,--after my father." "And the sponsors?" They were mentioned, and proved to be the best men and women of Thord's relations in the parish. "Is there anything else?" inquired the priest, and looked up. The peasant hesitated a little. "I should like very much to have him baptized by himself," said he, finally. "That is to say on a week-day?" "Next Saturday, at twelve o'clock noon." "Is there anything else?" inquired the priest. "There is nothing else;" and the peasant twirled his cap, as though he were about to go. Then the priest rose. "There is yet this, however," said he, and walking toward Thord, he took him by the hand and looked gravely into his eyes: "God grant that the child may become a blessing to you!" One day sixteen years later, Thord stood once more in the priest's study. "Really, you carry your age astonishingly well, Thord," said the priest; for he saw no change whatever in the man. "That is because I have no troubles," replied Thord. To this the priest said nothing, but after a while he asked: "What is your pleasure this evening?" "I have come this evening about that son of mine who is to be confirmed to-morrow." "He is a bright boy." "I did not wish to pay the priest until I heard what number the boy would have when he takes his place in church to-morrow."