‘Now, we must have the rooms scented with cows’ hairs and swine’s bristles; and then, I think, I shall have done my part!’ said the Elfin-King’s housekeeper. ‘Dear papa,’ said the youngest of the daughters, ‘won’t you tell me now who these grand visitors are?’ ‘Well!’ replied His Majesty, ‘I suppose there’s no use in keeping it a secret. Let two of my daughters get themselves ready for their wedding-day, that’s all! Two of them most certainly will be married. The Chief of the Norwegian Trolds, he who dwells in old Dofrefield, and has so many castles of freestone among these rocky fastnesses, besides a gold-mine,--which is a capital thing, let me tell you,--he is coming down here with his two boys, who are both to choose themselves a bride. Such an honest, straightforward, true old Norseman is this mountain chief! so merry and jovial! he and I are old comrades; he came down here years ago to fetch his wife; she is dead now; she was the daughter of the Rock-King at Möen. Oh, how I long to see the old Norseman again! His sons, they say, are rough unmannerly cubs, but perhaps report may have done them injustice, and at any rate they are sure to improve in a year or two, when they have sown their wild oats. Let me see how you will polish them up!’ [Illustration: THE MER-KING MUST BE INVITED FIRST] ‘And how soon are they to be here?’ inquired his youngest daughter again. ‘That depends on wind and weather!’ returned the Elfin-King. ‘They travel economically; they come at the ship’s convenience. I wanted them to pass over by Sweden, but the old man would not hear of that. He does not keep pace with the times, that’s the only fault I can find with him.’ Just then two wills-o’-the-wisp were seen dancing up in a vast hurry, each trying to get before the other, and to be the first to bring the news. ‘They come, they come!’ cried both with one voice. ‘Give me my crown, and let me stand in the moonlight!’ said the Elfin-King. And his seven daughters lifted their long scarfs and bowed low to the earth. There stood the Trold Chief from the Dofrefield, wearing a crown composed of icicles and polished pine cones; for the rest, he was equipped in a bear-skin cloak and sledge-boots; his sons were clad more slightly, and kept their throats uncovered, by way of showing that they cared nothing about the cold. ‘Is that a mount?’ asked the youngest of them, pointing to it. ‘Why, up in Norway we should call it a cave!’ ‘You foolish boy!’ replied his father; ‘a cave you go into, a mount you go up! Where are your eyes, not to see the difference?’ The only thing that surprised them in this country, they said, was that the people should speak and understand their language. ‘Behave yourselves now!’ said the old man; ‘don’t let your host fancy you never went into decent company before!’