And Russia far inland.
The bird, who by some name or other,
All men who know it call their brother.”
“Now that is charming of you to come and see me just at the very right minute, Sigrid,” said Fru Askevold, kissing the girl, whose face, owing to trouble and sleeplessness, looked more worn than her own. “I’ve just been cutting out Ingeborg’s new frock, and am wanting to sit down and rest a little. What do you think of the color! Pretty, isn’t it?”
“Charming,” said Sigrid. “Let me do the tacking for you.”
“No, no; you look tired, my child; sit down here by the stove, and I will tack it together as we chat. What makes those dark patches beneath your eyes.”
“Oh, it is nothing. I could not sleep last night, that is all.”
“Because you were worrying over something. That does not pay, child; give it up. It’s a bad habit.”
“I don’t think I can help it,” said Sigrid. “We all of us have a natural tendency that way. Don’t you remember how Frithiof never could sleep before an examination?”
“And you perhaps were worrying your brain about him? Was that it?”