Strings of fish, strung from pole to pole, were hung out to dry. Groups of sturdy fish-wives, here and there, with bronzed arms bare to the shoulder, and prettily kerchiefed heads, sat at tubs, dressing flounders for drying; and from the doorway of one hut came a voice so sweet and clear, crooning a quaint old Danish lullaby to the sleeping baby in the mother's arms, that the boys paused to listen as she sang: "_Den lille Ole, med Paraplyen Han kender alle Smaa Folk i Byen Hver lille Pige, hver lille Dreng, De sover sodt i deres lille Seng._" "That was a pretty song. Tell me what it was all about," asked Karl, as they hurried on at a more rapid gait, for they were getting hungrier every minute. "Oh, it was just a little folk-song every Dane knows. She was singing to her baby about the 'Sandman,' or _den lille Ole_, as we Danes say. She was telling him that the 'Sandman, with his umbrella, knows all about the little folks in town. Each little girl--each little boy--they are all sleeping sweetly in their beds.'" They passed an old fisherman, mackintosh-clad, and another one in jersey and high boots, both hurrying towards the beach, where, in the gathering twilight, they could see a dim craft, a small fishing boat, with a few dark figures plying their trade, slowly rounding the promontory, its lights reflecting picturesquely in the water. "Some day we must come back earlier, when more of the fishermen are home from their trips, and watch the crews at practice," said Valdemar. "These Skagen fishermen are true sons of the Vikings. It is said that there was one, once, who boasted of having saved two hundred lives." "I hope you didn't worry about our getting home so late, Uncle Thor," said Valdemar, at the supper table that night. "No, but here is a letter for you." "Hurrah!" exclaimed Valdemar, as he finished reading it. "It's from mother. She says that Grandmother Ingemann has invited us all to spend Christmas with her down in Odense, and that Aage will be home for his vacation from the Military College, and be there with us, and Uncle Oscar, too, will be back again from America. Mother has decided that I am not to return to school until after Christmas, for she thinks that Karl and I are learning more by seeing our country than we could learn in school. And, best of all, mother says that I can remain up here studying with you, Uncle Thor, until September!" "Hurrah!" said Karl. "No school until New Year's for me!" "That means five more weeks up here with you, dear Uncle Thor!" continued Valdemar. "Now I can entirely finish the task you gave me to do, the Prince Olaf statue. I'm so glad, Uncle Thor!" "And I'm glad, too, Valdemar, for you are doing me great credit as a pupil. I am going to be very proud of that statue of yours, Valdemar, when it is finished." These last five weeks passed for Valdemar much as the first five had--in the studio.