"The briar takes hold with many teeth, but causes no wound. In me there are certainly no thorns left."
Ole: "I did not know the boy then. Now I see that what he sows thrives; the harvest answers to the promise of the spring; there is money in his finger-tips, and I should like to get hold of him."
Oyvind looks at the father, he at the mother, she from them to the school-master, and then all three at the latter.
"Ole thinks that he has a large gard"—
Ole breaks in: "A large gard, but badly managed. I can do no more. I am old, and my legs refuse to run the errands of my head. But it will pay to take hold up yonder."
"The largest gard in the parish, and that by a great deal," interrupts the school-master.
"The largest gard in the parish; that is just the misfortune; shoes that are too large fall off; it is a fine thing to have a good gun, but one should be able to lift it." Then turning quickly towards Oyvind, "Would you be willing to lend a hand to it?"
"Do you mean for me to be gard overseer?"
"Precisely—yes; you should have the gard."
"I should have the gard?"