PEER. Ay, ay; of that yarn enough now. Enough of the whole affair. All that’s heavy we’ll let stand over Till after—some other day. [_Sits on the edge of the bed._ Now, mother, we’ll chat together; But only of this and that,— Forget what’s awry and crooked, And all that is sharp and sore.— Why see now, the same old pussy So she is alive then, still? ÅSE. She makes such a noise o’ nights now; You know what that bodes, my boy! PEER. _Changing the subject._] What news is there here in the parish? ÅSE. [_Smiling._] There’s somewhere about, they say, A girl who would fain to the uplands—— PEER. [_Hastily._] Mads Moen, is he content? ÅSE. They say that she hears and heeds not The old people’s prayers and tears. You ought to look in and see them;— You, Peer, might perhaps bring help—— PEER. The smith, what’s become of him now? ÅSE. Don’t talk of that filthy smith. Her name I would rather tell you, The name of the girl, you know—— PEER. Nay, now we will chat together, But only of this and that,— Forget what’s awry and crooked, And all that is sharp and sore. Are you thirsty? I’ll fetch you water. Can you stretch you? The bed is short. Let me see;—if I don’t believe, now, It’s the bed that I had when a boy! Do you mind, dear, how oft in the evenings You sat at my bedside here, And spread the fur-coverlet o’er me, And sang many a lilt and lay? ÅSE. Ay, mind you? And then we played sledges, When your father was far abroad. The coverlet served for sledge-apron, And the floor for an ice-bound fiord. PEER. Ah, but the best of all, though,— Mother, you mind that too? The best was the fleet-foot horses—— ÅSE. Ay, think you that I’ve forgot?— It was Kari’s cat that we borrowed; It sat on the log-scooped chair—— PEER. To the castle west of the moon, and The castle east of the sun, To Soria-Moria Castle The road ran both high and low. A stick that we found in the closet, For a whip-shaft you made it serve. ÅSE. Right proudly I perked on the box-seat—— PEER.