The schoolmaster turns towards the window, saying somewhat carelessly, "You should have help too Ole, you can't walk much, and you know very little of the new method."
"Oh, there's no one who would help me!"
"Have you asked anyone?"
But Ole makes no reply.
The schoolmaster: "It was long thus between myself and God. 'Thou art not good to me,' I said to Him. 'Hast thou asked me to be so?' He replied. No, I had not, then I prayed, and all things went on well."
Ole is still silent, and now the schoolmaster is silent too.
At last Ole says, "I have a grandchild she knows what it would please me to see before I am borne away, but she does not do it."
The schoolmaster smiles: "Perhaps it would not please her? There are many things that trouble you, but so far as I can see, all the difficulties centre at last on the farm."
Ole replies feelingly: "Yes, it has passed from one generation to another, and the soil is good. All that father after father has got together, has been laid out there, and now things don't grow. Neither do I know, when I am taken away, who shall come in my stead. He cannot be of our kindred."
"But there is your granddaughter.--"