“This traveler is Herr Lönnrot, from Helsingfors, who is journeying through the country. Last night he passed at our farm and to-night he would spend at thine. He wishes much to speak with peasant Sveaborg about certain matters he is seeking to learn.” Then catching sight of Elsa, “Good morrow to thee, Elsa! How comes the churning? It hath made thy cheeks red as cloud-berries!” Elsa shyly drew near her mother, as the latter greeted Jan, and, courtesying to the stranger, assured him of a welcome at their home. Jan then jumped from the cart to help Herr Lönnrot, who was an old man. He had a gentle face with kindly blue eyes, and his hair and beard were gray. He was wrapped in a long traveling cloak, and walked with a staff. As Fru Sveaborg led the way to the cottage door he coughed slightly and drew his cloak closer about him. Within the living-room, the Fru hastened to set before them fresh milk and bread, and then she and Jan gossiped a while over farm matters, while the stranger, who seemed weary, went to rest in the little guest chamber, which was always in readiness for travelers. In the afternoon, as Elsa sat by the fireplace spinning, Herr Lönnrot came into the room, and seating himself on the bench, began to talk to her. “Art very busy, little one?” he said; “canst thou not sing a song for an old man? I trow yonder tiny kantele fits thy fingers as if fashioned for them!” “Aye, sir,” answered Elsa shyly, “if thou really wishest, I will sing the little charm-song I have just learned.” With this she took the kantele, and drawing a wooden stool beside the bench began to sing. Though her voice rose somewhat timidly at first, presently she lost herself in the music and poetry, and sang many of the strange Finnish songs. As Herr Lönnrot listened to the little girl his eyes brightened and he smiled with pleasure; and when, by and by, she ceased, he drew her to his side and stroked her hair. He then questioned her carefully about the songs that she and her father knew, and told her that he himself was even then traveling through Finland for the express purpose of gathering together all the songs of the peasant folk, though not so much for the music as for the sake of the words, which he was most anxious to learn. He told her further, how, for many years, the great scholars of Finland had been certain that a great and wonderfully beautiful song-story, a story of heroes and wizards and fairies, had become broken up and scattered among the people, just as if some beautiful stained-glass window should come to pieces, and the different fragments fall into the hands of many different persons, and be scattered about so that no one could make out the first picture unless all the pieces could be found and fitted together again.