"Very many," replied the Pastor. "There are several collections of these traditions, and although each collection is generally the same in character, yet the details and stories themselves widely differ. But I will tell you two of the stories. A Trold lived in a barrow between two church towers, about a mile from each other. This Trold had a wife, who was of Christian folk. It was necessary to get the services of a midwife, and the Trold fetched the nearest, and gave her for her services what appeared to be two pieces of charcoal; but the Trold's wife told her to take them home, but warned her that as soon as she put one foot outside she should suddenly jump aside, as the Trold would cast a glowing hot-iron rod at her. She followed the advice and went home, when the charcoal turned to silver money. The two women, however, became friends, and the midwife often spun flax for the Trold; but she was forbidden to wet her fingers with Christian spittle, and they brought her a little crock to hold water for her to wet her fingers in. This continued for some time, when at last the Trold wife came to the midwife and said, 'My husband, the Trold, will stay here no longer. He says he cannot bear the two ding-dong danging church towers.' So they left, flying, it is said, through the air on a long stick, with all their belongings."
"A story with some imagery," said Hardy.
"The next, however, is more so," said the Pastor. "On a St. John's night, or, as we call it, Sankt. Hans. Nat, the Bjærg folk and Elle folk had collected to make merry. A man came riding by from Viborg, and he could see the assembled Underjordiske enjoying the feast. An Ellekone, or elf wife, went round with a large silver tankard, and offered drink to every one, and came at last to the horseman. He pretended to drink, but threw the contents of the tankard over his shoulder, put spurs to his horse, and galloped off. But the Ellekone was after him, and came nearer and nearer; her breasts were so long that they fell on her knees and impeded her. She therefore threw them, one after the other, over her shoulders, and continued the chase with renewed speed. Fortunately he was close to the river, and dashed through it. The Ellekone caught the hind shoe of his horse, and tore it off; but she could not go over the water. The tankard was said to be the largest ever seen in Denmark."
"The story is a common one to many countries, but it scarcely exists with so much clear and distinct imagery as in your recital, Herr Pastor," said Hardy.
"I think now we have had enough of traditions for one evening," said the Pastor.
"What is your opinion of the effect of these traditions on the minds of the people generally?" asked Hardy.
"It is difficult to say," said the Pastor; "we can but guess at their effect. As education and civilization progress, they lose their superstitious influence and interest and amuse. There is a wild picturesque imagery that must appeal to the most educated mind. They afford subjects to painters; but I have never seen a picture yet based on these traditions that grasped the graphic thought of the recital of the tradition. In a religious sense they do no harm; they excite the imagination of the people only to prepare their minds for the simplicity of the Christian faith, at least they assist to do so. When I visit my Sognebørn (literally, parish children), I tell the children these traditions, and when they grow older they like to hear anything I have to say; it assists me in suggesting religious thought when their minds are ripe for it."
Frøken Helga, who had all the evening knitted and listened to her father, dropped her knitting and went to him and caressed him. "Dear little father," she said, "you are always good and thoughtful."
"I think so also," said Hardy.