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.
"But what's come over your mother?" said the man, after they had chatted a while. "I think she swooned away; you had better look after her."
So the lad went and took hold of the old dame, and dragged her up the hall along the floor. That brought her to herself, and she kicked and scratched, and flung herself about, and at last sat down upon a heap of firewood
31
