"Perhaps," Fred whispered aside to the brother and sister, "the Thunderer, the god of war, can appreciate a peace celebration as well as others."
"Anyway," replied Yaspard, "there ought to be a 'chief mourner' at the funeral, and I don't know who can undertake the part if Thor will not."
"Funeral! What do you mean, brodhor?" Signy asked, with eyes very wide open; whereupon he beseeched her to be silent, or the cat would be out of the bag in a jiffy; and Signy, still wondering but submissive, held her peace, while Yaspard went rollicking from group to group, singing to a doleful tune with a grin on his face—
"Thus said the Rover
To his jolly crew,
Down with the black flag,
Up with the blue.
Shake hands on main-deck,
Shake hands on bow;
Shake hands amidships,
Kiss down below."
"You are improving on Scott, I hear," said Garth Halsen. "I didn't know you went in for being a poet as well as a Viking."
"No more I do, but I know you write poetry," retorted Yaspard; and then Fred said, "Yes; and do you know he has been impudent enough to compose a ballad about a legend of your family, boy? Think of that! I liked the ballad so well that I asked Garth to bring it along and give us all the benefit; so you are to hear the story of your own great-granduncle, whose namesake you are, done into verse, with all the Viking and Shetlandic accompaniments. What think you of that?"
"It depends upon how it is treated," quoth Yaspard with most unusual caution, and eyeing Garth as if he were some curious specimen more fit for Uncle Brüs's cabinets than a picnic.
Aunt Osla, however, was charmed with the idea, said it was a very pitiful story, quite true, and just suitable for a ballad; so Garth's verses were to be read after lunch and other ceremonies were over—for other ceremonies there were to be, as all could guess who saw Fred Garson talking eagerly apart with Yaspard, then choose a lovely green spot, and say, "This will do. Our dining hall can be on that flat lower down, but this is exactly what we want. You might get some of the fellows to bring up a few stones, while I fetch the flag-staff."
Off went Yaspard, and soon the Harrisons and Mitchell boys were helping him to convey some large stones to the brae which Fred had chosen.
"To fix a flag-staff" was all he told them, and they were not inquisitive, although our Viking's smile and knowing look betokened something much more important than the erection of a flag-staff.