"I wish the poor actors had but the eighth part of the memory you have!" said Signe.--"God preserve her from ever being an actress," said the dean, at once becoming earnest.--"But father, you don't suppose Petra has any idea of such a thing?" said Signe laughing: "I have always observed that any one educated from youth up in the poetry of his language, has no longing at all to go upon the stage, while those who do not know much about poetry till they are grown up, revel in the thought of it, it is the longing of poetry, a longing all at once awakened in them that impels them."--"That is very true; it is not often that a really educated person will go upon the stage."--"And still more seldom one poetically educated," said Signe--"Yes, if it occurs there is a want in the character, which allows vanity and levity to get the upper hand. In my travels abroad, and also when studying, I became acquainted with many actors, but I have never known, and I have never heard of any one knowing an actor, who led a really Christian life. I have seen that they have felt themselves called, but there is something restless and unsatisfying in their occupation; they have found it impossible to collect themselves--even long after they have left it. If I have spoken with them about it, they have admitted and lamented it, but yet they have at once added: 'But we may console ourselves with the thought that we are not worse than so many others.' But this is what I call poor consolation. A life that does not in any way build up our spiritual manhood, is a sinful life. The Lord help them, and may He keep pure hearts away from it!" * * * The next day, Saturday, the dean as usual was up before seven, went his morning round among the labourers, and then going further, he returned in daylight. As he was going past the house to the farm yard, he saw an open exercise book, or something of the sort, which must have been thrown out of Petra's window the evening before, and not found, because it was the colour of the snow. He took up the book, and carried it in with him to his study; in opening the leaves to dry them, he saw it was an old French exercise book, in which verses were now written. He never thought of reading the verses, but he caught sight of the word, "Actress," written all over,--even in the verses themselves ... He sat down to examine it. After repeated erasures and corrections, he came at last to the following rhyme, which though not copied, could still be read: