Seed-time passed, and summer came; the young Frau went out but little, and the comfort which the old inspector would have taken from her bright eyes and cheerful disposition he must do without, for she had something dearer, something of more importance to do, even if all this importance lay wrapped up in a bundle of flannels; she knew how precious were the hopes and wishes which she cradled in her arms, and, for the time, all other duties were sacrificed to these. Over Axel also, came with his fatherhood a vague, undefined feeling, as if it were his sacred duty and obligation to labor for his child; he began to manage his estate with great diligence; instead of superintending matters, in a general way, as he had hitherto done, like a sort of field-marshal, he conducted himself more like a corporal, who concerns himself about all the little details of his corporalship, and he stuck his nose into everything, even into the tar-barrel. He might have done that, and it is very well for a master to be interested in everything, but he should have left the commanding alone, for he didn't understand it. He took hold of the management in the most unintelligent way, broke up the old man's arrangements, and when he had brought everything into confusion, he went into the house, and scolded the old man: "The old man has not the least _method_! He is too old for me. No, we cannot go on so any longer!" And Krischan Segel said to Diedrich Snäsel: "Well, what shall we do now, the Herr says _so_, and the inspector says _so_?" "Well, neighbor," said Diedrich, "if the Herr says----" "Yes, but it is all stuff and nonsense." "Then you need not do it, and if he has said it, it is no matter." So the harvest ripened, and the blessing of the fields must be gathered into barns, the rye was cut, and had stood three days in sheaves. "Herr Inspector," called Axel from the window, and as Habermann came up he said, "to-morrow, we will bring in the rye." "Herr von Rambow, it will not do yet, yesterday and to-day it has been cloudy, and it has not dried; the grain is still soft, and some stems are quite green." "Well, it will do. How will you bring it in?" "If it must be brought in, we should begin right behind the village, and go with two gangs, one to drive into the great barn, the other into the barley barn." "Begin behind the village? With two gangs? Why?" "The nearer we begin to the village the more we can get in in one day and the weather looks suspicious; and we must bring it in in two gangs, and into two barns, or the people will get in each other's way, and the wagons will interfere."