The church was full of people. It was gaily decorated, and up by the organ stood eight young women who were to sing “It is so lovely together to be!” Lasse had never seen or heard of such a wedding. “I feel quite proud!” he said.
“He’s a bladder full of wind!” said Pelle. “He’s taking her simply on account of the honor.”
And then the bridal pair stepped up to the altar. “It’s tremendous the way Alfred has greased his head!” whispered Lasse. “It looks like a newly-licked calf’s head! But she is pretty. I’m only puzzled that she’s not put on her myrtle-wreath—I suppose nothing has happened?”
“Yes, she’s got a child,” whispered Pelle. “Otherwise, he would never in this world have got her!”
“Oh, I see! Yes, but that’s smart of him, to catch such a fine lady!”
Now the young women sang, and it sounded just as if they were angels from heaven who had come to seal the bond.
“We must take our places so that we can congratulate them,” said Lasse, and he wanted to push right through the crowd, but Pelle held him back.
“I’m afraid he won’t know us to-day; but look now, there’s Uncle Kalle.”
Kalle stood squeezed among the hindmost chairs, and there he had to stay until everybody had passed out. “Yes, I was very anxious to take part in this great day,” he said, “and I wanted to bring mother with me, but she thought her clothes weren’t respectable enough.” Kalle wore a new gray linsey-woolsey suit; he had grown smaller and more bent with the years.
“Why do you stand right away in the corner here, where you can see nothing? As the bridegroom’s father, you must have been given your place in the first row,” said Lasse.