“Of course Lars Andersson was among them. The Paymaster of the Regiment knew him from of old as a joke-maker, for year after year Lars had sat here at Mårbacka weeks at a stretch, making clothes for the Paymaster and all his folks. From the time he came till he went it was nothing but fun and laughter. He could mimic everybody in the parish and make things disappear like a magician at the fair, and he played on a stick till you thought you heard the whole regiment marching. But he was a bit dangerous, was Lars, for he made up yarns about folk that caused bad feeling among the neighbours. “‘Well, what shall you call yourself, Lars Andersson?’ the Paymaster asked him, putting on a stern face so that Lars would not dare come with any of his monkey tricks. “‘Lord preserve the Paymaster of the Regiment!’ says he. ‘May I call myself anything I like?’ He puckered his forehead as if he were trying hard to think of a name. “‘You may, Lars Andersson.’ The Paymaster, knowing his man, added, ‘But it must be a proper and honourable name, and nothing clownish.’ “You remember, Lieutenant, how your father looked. He was a kind man, but just the sight of him put fear into many a one, for he was a big tall man with bushy black eyebrows. “But the tailor was not afraid--not he! ‘Then,’ says he, ‘I’ll call myself Lagerlöf, for that is both an honourable and respected name. I know of no other in all Värmland that sounds so sweet.’ “The Paymaster of the Regiment must have got hot in the head when he heard that that buffoon wanted to call himself Lagerlöf. “‘No, that won’t do,’ he said. ‘We can’t have two with the same name in the regiment.’ “‘But,’ says the tailor, ‘there are at least three Ugglas and four Lilliehööks, and it isn’t likely anyone would mistake me for the Paymaster.’ “‘No. But can’t you see, Lars Andersson, that it would never do,’ protested the Paymaster. “‘I wouldn’t have chosen that name if you hadn’t given me leave to call myself whatever I wished.’ The tailor made himself appear very humble and serious. ‘I know that when the Paymaster of the Regiment gives you his word you can usually go by it.’ “Then there was a long silence. Paymaster Lagerlöf sat studying how he’d get round this. Aside from the fact that it would make him the butt of the regiment, he didn’t care to have a mountebank like that tailor knocking about under the name of Lagerlöf. “‘Look here, Lars,’ he finally said, ‘it might do well enough here in the regiment for us two to bear the same name, but home at Mårbacka it would never go. So understand, if you insist on this thing you can’t do any more tailoring there.’ “That must have given the tailor a scare, for the weeks he sat sewing at Mårbacka were to him the best in the whole year. At no other place did he fare so well, and nowhere else did they laugh so heartily at his yarns and pranks.