Uli came at last, giving little answer to the many reproaches of his mistress for having to be forced to come. But she filled his glass heartily, forced him to eat, and kept up a chatter of talk—how well she had liked it at Cousin Johannes' house, and how she could now see where Uli had got his training. But he must have been especially good to them, too, for the children still hung upon him and their parents loved him almost like a son. "I suppose you'll want to go back to them, when you leave us."
"No," said Uli.
"It's not customary to ask, to be sure; but will you tell me where you are going?" asked his mistress.
"I don't know yet," said Uli; "I haven't been in a hurry to take a place, although I could have had several."
"Well then, stay with us; that's the best thing for both of us; we're accustomed to each other now."
"I hope you won't take it ill of me," he said; "but I don't intend to be a servant any more."
"Have you something else?" she asked.
"No," he answered.
"Well, if you don't want to be a servant any more, suppose we make you tenant on our farm."
This speech affected Uli like a sudden blow. He dropped his mutton-laden fork on his plate, but kept his mouth open, turned his saucer eyes upon his mistress and stared at her as if she had come down from the moon. Freneli, who had been standing at the window, vexed at Uli's slow eating, turned swiftly about and opened eyes and ears to see what would happen.