Jon. Don't think I am forgetting you, Arngrim. (Hands him the flask.)
Arngrim. The blood grows colder as one gets old, and then the warmth of the bottle feels good.
Halla (hands Jon a piece of shark's meat). Help yourself.
Jon. Bless you! My mouth waters. (Takes a knife from his pocket and cuts off a slice.) It is white as milk and sweet-smelling. I say, shark's meat and brandy are the best things the Lord ever made—next to women! (Hands the fish to one of the peasants.)
Halla (finds a piece of sugar-candy and divides it between the children). Have the little girls been to the folds before?
Peasant Woman. No, this is the first time. I promised them last spring that if they were good and worked hard I would bring them, and they have surely earned it. It's past belief how much they can do, no older than they are.
Halla. Did you see the last flock? That was a large one. (Goes toward the background.)
Jon's Wife. Indeed it was.
Jon. My brown bell-wether was the leader of the flock. He generally stays in the hills till they gather in the sheep for the last time, unless there are signs of bad weather. (Gudfinna crosses over to the peasant women and fingers their clothes. They stand talking together.)
First Peasant. I should not wonder if the winter were to come early after so good a summer.