"Oh, you're mad today," said Ditte, lifting him down. He ran out into the yard to the father, and continued his nonsense.
"What's that he says?" shouted Lars Peter from outside.
"Oh, it's only something he's made up himself—he often does that. He seems to think it's something naughty."
"You, lumpy, lump!" said the child, taking hold of his father's leg.
"Mind what you're doing, you little monkey, or I'll come after you!" said Lars Peter with a terrible roar.
The boy laughed and hid behind the well.
Lars Peter caught him and put him on one shoulder, and his sister on the other. "We'll go in the fields," said he.
Ditte and Kristian went with him, it would be their last walk there; involuntarily they each took hold of his coat. Thus they went down the pathway to the clay-pit, past the marsh and up on the other side. It was strange how different everything looked now they were going to lose it. The marsh and the clay-pit could have told their own tale about the children's play and Lars Peter's plans. The brambles in the hedges, the large stone which marked the boundary, the stone behind which they used to hide—all spoke to them in their own way today. The winter seed was in the earth, and everything ready for the new occupier, whoever he might be. Lars Peter did not wish his successor to have anything to complain of. No-one should say that he had neglected his land, because he was not going to reap the harvest.
"Ay, our time's up here," said he, when they were back in the house again. "Lord knows what the new place'll be like!" There was a catch in his voice as he spoke.
A small crowd began to collect on the highroad. They stood in groups and did not go down to the Crow's Nest, until the auctioneer and his clerk arrived. Ditte was on the point of screaming when she saw who the two men were; they were the same who had come to fetch her mother. But now they came on quite a different errand, and spoke kindly.