Page:Christmas Fireside Stories.djvu/275

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An Evening in the Squire's Kitchen.
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heads or your heels!' Away they rushed, yelling out of the door, the one on top of the other, and he fancied they all lcoked like a lot of grey balls of worsted rolling out through the door. But when Joe had put his gun away and come over to the hearth to light his pipe again, he found an old man sitting on the stool by the fire,—he had such a long beard, that it reached down to his knees,—it must have been a yard long, and he also had a pipe, which he was trying to light with a fire-brand like Joe,—one moment it was alight and the next it went out.

"'And you,' said Joe, 'do you belong to the same gang of tramps, you too? Where do you come from?'

"'Oh, I don't live far away, I can tell you,' said the man, 'and I would advise you to take more care and not make such a noise and disturbance after this, or I'll make you a poor man.'

"'So,' said Joe, 'where do you live then?'

"'I live close by, under the corn-drying room,' said the man; 'and if we hadn't been living there, it would have been gone long ago, for you have been firing over much now and then, and it has been hot enough there I can tell you; but the whole building is not so strong, but that it'll fall in a heap if I touch it with my finger. Now you know it, so you had better mind after this!'

"There was no more dancing and playing to be heard at Skroperud after that; Joe parted with his fiddle, and they could never get him to touch another since."

During the latter part of this story, the squire had been making a commotion in the parlour; cupboard doors were opened and shut; we heard the keys rattle, and we knew he was busy locking up the silver plate and other portable property, from the silver tankard down to the leaden tobacco-box. Just as the smith had finished his story, the squire opened the door and popped in his head with his cap on one side.

"So you are at your cock and bull stories and lies again?" he asked.

"Lies?" said the smith very much offended, "I have never told lies, sir! And this story is true enough, for I am married to one of the daughters. My wife, Dorthe, she was lying in bed and saw the