“Nay, sir; in truth he hath taught me many runes about Wainamoinen and the others, but I know not how the harp was born. But,” she added, “my father will be home at supper-time; he is helping thatch neighbor Friedvic’s new barn, and perhaps he can tell thee!” “Perhaps,” said Herr Lönnrot. “Thy neighbor Jan told me he thought thy father knew something of this rune I seek.” Even as they talked, a whistle sounded without, and Elsa clapped her hands joyously. “There is my father now!” and bounding to the door she flung it wide open. As the peasant Sveaborg stepped within, seeing Herr Lönnrot, he took off his cap and greeted him kindly, for strangers were always welcome at the Sveaborg farm. When the Herr told him why he was journeying through the country, and of the lost rune he was seeking, Elsa’s father grew much interested. “The birth of the harp! Ah, sir,” said he, “I know not the whole rune myself, but I know of a peasant who does. I have heard him sing it, and truly ’tis of marvelous beauty! But he is very aged, and odd, sir”—here peasant Sveaborg tapped his forehead meaningly “and will teach it to no one else. Even now, I have been told, he is very ill, and like to die. I know not if thou canst learn aught from him, but if thou wishest, I will take thee thither to-morrow.” And while they were busy arranging the trip for the morrow, Fru Sveaborg came in, and with Elsa’s help soon set out the evening meal. As they ate their bowls of _pimea_ or sour milk, which is the chief part of every Finnish meal, Herr Lönnrot entertained them with wonderful stories of his travels and news of the outside world, till all were charmed; and Elsa, especially, thought him the most delightful traveler their roof had ever sheltered. Her admiration for him deepened as the evening wore on, for the Herr, though evidently in feeble health and weary from his journey, yet talked so pleasantly that all were sorry when by and by he bade them good night. The next morning at breakfast, Herr Lönnrot did not appear; but the family did not think it strange, and supposing him still resting, did not disturb him. Fru Sveaborg placed some breakfast for him in an earthen dish, which she set in the oven to keep warm. Then she went about her work. But as the morning passed on, and still he did not come from his chamber, she became uneasy, and sent Elsa to tap upon his door. As Elsa lightly knocked, the door swung open, for there are no locks in Finland, and there lay Herr Lönnrot, motionless, on the floor of the room! The aged physician had evidently arisen, and made himself ready for the day, when, overcome by weakness, he had fallen in a swoon. Elsa, thoroughly frightened, ran to the living-room, crying out: “Mother! Mother! Herr Lönnrot is dying!”