"And Meri ... spare her to-day, at least."
"She shall work with the rest this afternoon."
CHAPTER II.
ASHAMED OF A PEASANT'S NAME.
The log-house of the East Bothnian peasant is now always more roomy, lighter, and more pretentious in its whole appearance than in any other part of Finland. It sometimes consists of two storeys, or has at least a garret; the windows are of good size; it it almost always painted red or yellow, with white corners, and occasionally possesses window shutters. The whole bears evidence of mechanical skill and comfort. The East Bothnian never builds such large and fine villages as the Tavastlander and the Abo peasants do, but in cases of necessity constructs good solitary farmhouses. At the time of our story the smoke-huts were in use by nearly the whole Finnish population; only peasants of Swedish origin used fire-places and regular chimneys. But even then one could see in East Bothnia, close to the coast, some buildings constructed in a more modern style, copied from their Swedish neighbours.
The newly settled towns had attracted the country people to the coast, and they had already begun to be accustomed to greater comfort; and the wealthier the peasant, the quicker his house and person assumed a more civilised aspect. It is true that the luxury, against which the laws of the sixteenth century so severely protested, was found only on the estates of the nobility and among the wealthy Abo burghers—but the home-brewed ale foamed over in the tankards of the peasants, and the Holland spices were produced from his cupboards for festive occasions.
Since the fires of the Peasants' War had destroyed the huts of Storkyro village, one could often see the Swedish and Finnish styles of building side by side. Bertila's farm was the largest and the richest in the village, and was built in the new style, with steps and a small verandah, and two small chambers beside the large room; one for the master of the family and one for his daughter. The rest of the people on the farm lived together in the large room, but in summertime the younger ones slept out of doors in the sheds and some in the lofts.
At this time one would not see the large clock, with its red and blue painted cover, which to-day is the chief ornament in every peasant's cottage. The long plain table with its high seat for the master, stood surrounded by benches on the sides towards the door. It was close to dinner-time, and in the big fire-place the porridge-kettle was boiling. The room was nearly empty, only a large cat purred on a bench, and a girl of fourteen stirred the porridge; and Meri was sitting by the fire with her work. Poor Meri had just recovered from her fainting attack, but she was still very pale. Her long golden hair fell down over her almost bare shoulders; her eyes were often shyly turned towards the door, as if she feared the sudden entrance of her father. She was knitting a girdle of the most beautiful colours, and sang at the same time an old Swedish song.
"This girdle with roses fair
Shall only my loved one wear,
When he from the perils of war
Returns to us from afar."
It has been said that Meri was no longer young. The traces which suffering had left on her finely formed features told of many a year of sorrow and pain; but at this moment as she watched the girdle, her face assumed an almost childish expression of delight. One could see that her work was a joy to her, and that she sang of someone much beloved and far away.