I rang a little cow-bell and Karsten crept through the hole in the wall in full costume. I followed him with an accordion for I was to play an accompaniment, you see. I can’t play the accordion very well but I hoped I might get along all right, nevertheless.
“Ja, vi elsker,” began Karsten, and I accompanied him as well as I could but he sang faster than I played, so I kept several notes behind him.
“You’re playing wrong,” said Karsten, stopping short in the song.
“I’m not, either. We’ll soon get together. You just keep on singing.”
We went at it again.
“If you can’t play properly I won’t sing any more,” said Karsten after a few more notes.
“Oh, you horrid thing! Keep on singing. I’ll catch up.”
But Karsten sprang at me and thumped me over the head two or three times. I grabbed him by both ears but he wrenched himself away. There was a roar of laughter throughout the whole woodshed, and the boys shouted, “Bravo! Bravo!”
O pshaw!
Karsten had already clambered back through the hole. I saw only his legs when I turned around. Under the circumstances, there was nothing for me to do but to creep after him.