This girl was not the brightest person in the world, and the boy soon observed that his mother's words were easy to comprehend, but that it was hard to get at the meaning of what Ragnhild said. He never talked much with his father, and he was rather afraid of him, for the house had to be kept very quiet when he was home. One Christmas Eve—they were burning two candles on the table, and the father was drinking from a white flask—the father took the boy up in his arms and set him on his lap, looked him sternly in the eyes, and exclaimed,—
"Ugh, boy!" Then he added more gently,—"Why, you are not so much afraid. Would you have the courage to listen to a story?"
The boy made no reply, but he looked full in his father's face. His father then told him about a man from Vaage, whose name was Blessom. This man was in Copenhagen for the purpose of getting the king's verdict in a law-suit he was engaged in, and he was detained so long that Christmas eve overtook him there. Blessom was greatly annoyed at this, and, as he was sauntering about the streets fancying himself at home, he saw a very large man, in a white, short coat, walking in front of him.
"How fast you are walking!" said Blessom.
"I have a long distance to go in order to get home this evening," replied the man.
"Where are you going?"
"To Vaage," answered the man, and walked on.
"Why, that is very nice," said Blessom, "for that is where I am going, too."
"Well, then, you may ride with me, if you will stand on the runners of my sledge," answered the man, and turned into a side street where his horse was standing.
He mounted his seat and looked over his shoulder at Blessom, who was just getting on the runners.