“‘No, that won’t do,’ he said. ‘We can’t have two with the same name in the regiment.’
“‘But,’ says the tailor, ‘there are at least three Ugglas and four Lilliehööks, and it isn’t likely anyone would mistake me for the Paymaster.’
“‘No. But can’t you see, Lars Andersson, that it would never do,’ protested the Paymaster.
“‘I wouldn’t have chosen that name if you hadn’t given me leave to call myself whatever I wished.’ The tailor made himself appear very humble and serious. ‘I know that when the Paymaster of the Regiment gives you his word you can usually go by it.’
“Then there was a long silence. Paymaster Lagerlöf sat studying how he’d get round this. Aside from the fact that it would make him the butt of the regiment, he didn’t care to have a mountebank like that tailor knocking about under the name of Lagerlöf.
“‘Look here, Lars,’ he finally said, ‘it might do well enough here in the regiment for us two to bear the same name, but home at Mårbacka it would never go. So understand, if you insist on this thing you can’t do any more tailoring there.’
“That must have given the tailor a scare, for the weeks he sat sewing at Mårbacka were to him the best in the whole year. At no other place did he fare so well, and nowhere else did they laugh so heartily at his yarns and pranks.
“‘Perhaps you’d be satisfied to call yourself Lager?’ the Paymaster suggested, seeing the fellow was wavering. The tailor must have agreed to that, for he went by the name of Lager the rest of his life.”