The school-master salutes him, and receives a greeting in return; he finds a stool, and seats himself in front of Ole.
"You have sent for me," he says.
"I have."
The school-master takes a fresh quid of tobacco, glances around the room, picks up a book that is lying on the bench, and turns over the leaves.
"What did you want of me?"
"I was just sitting here thinking it over."
The school-master gives himself plenty of time, searches for his spectacles in order to read the title of the book, wipes them and puts them on.
"You are growing old, now, Ole."
"Yes, it was about that I wanted to talk with you. I am tottering downward; I will soon rest in the grave."
"You must see to it that you rest well there, Ole."