he saw a light shining from the north. So he ran down and told his mother.
"We must get on, mother; we are near a house, for I see a bright light shining quite close to us in the north." Then she rose and shouldered her bag, and set off to see; but they hadn't gone far, before there stood a steep spur of the hill, right across their path.
"Just as I thought!" said the old dame; "now we can't go a step farther; a pretty bed we shall have here!"
But the lad took the bag under one arm, and his mother under the other, and ran straight up the steep crag with them.
"Now, don't you see! don't you see that we are close to a house! don't you see the bright light?"
But the old dame said those were no Christian folk, but Trolls, for she was at home in all that forest far and near, and knew there was not a living soul in it until you were well over the ridge and had come down on the other side. But they went on, and in a little while they came to a great house which was all painted red.
"What's the good?" said the old dame, "we daren't go in, for here the Trolls live."
"Don't say so; we must go in. There must be men where the lights shine so," said the lad. So in he went, and his mother after him, but he had scarce opened the door before she swooned away, for there she saw a great stout man, at least twenty feet high, sitting on the bench.
"Good evening, grandfather!" said the lad.
"Well, here I've sat three hundred years," said the man who sat on the bench, "and no one has ever come and called me grandfather before." Then the lad sat down by the man's side, and began to talk to him as if they had been old friends.
