Olaf.
[Looks threateningly towards his father’s room.] He sha’n’t thrash me again. But do you know that Uncle Johan is to sail to-morrow with the Americans?
Hilmar.
What’s that to you? You get upstairs again!
Olaf.
Perhaps I may go buffalo-hunting yet, uncle.
Hilmar.
Rubbish! such a young milksop as you——
Olaf.
Just wait a little; you shall hear something to-morrow!