A new bell was cast and hung, and this time the provost, who was more learned, was selected to consecrate it. The provost also failed to hit upon the right prayers, for the following Sunday, when the bell was about to be used for the first time, it flew through the apertures in the tower and was broken on the roof of the church.
Again a bell was cast, and this time, as priest and provost seemed to be powerless against the Trolls, the Bishop of Skara was sent for. His prayers were effectual, and the bell was not again disturbed.
The Trolls thereafter dwelt in harmony with their neighbors, and especially with the parishioners of Resslared. From the latter the Trolls were wont to borrow food and drink, which they always returned two-fold. [[116]]
In time the first residents died off, and new people took their places. The newcomers were well provided with this world’s goods, even to being wealthy, but they were niggardly and uncharitable.
One day the “mother” of the Trolls went, as was her custom of old, to a cottage, and asked the housewife if she could lend her a measure of meal.
“No, that is out of the question! I have none in the house!” said the woman.
“Very well! It is as you say, of course,” replied the Troll, “but maybe you can lend me a can or two of ale. My husband is away, and he will be very thirsty when he returns.”
“No, I can’t do that. My ale cans are all empty,” answered the housewife.
“Very good! Maybe you can lend me a little milk for my little child that is sick in the mountain.”
“Milk! Where should I get milk? My cows are all farrow,” said the woman.