The innkeeper explained it was the “teeth” that he was so interested in.
“Teeth?”
“Yes, Björn. When the teeth come the crying stops.”
“Is that so? Say, tell me, could I see the child?”
The father escorted him proudly into the nursery where the young wife sat at a window with the child on her lap. She was bending over it, and was also looking for “the teeth.”
Björn saluted and came slowly nearer.
“Come and look at him,” she said, smiling.
The giant bent his head, but the child became frightened at the heavy hair and beard and screamed. Björn drew back in alarm, but during his retreat he turned several times and looked back at the window.
When he and the innkeeper were alone in the latter’s private room Björn stood a while in thought, scratching with his thick finger in his mane.
“Say, innkeeper, what a wonderful thing such a little fellow is! He had real nails on his fingers, and he looked at me.”