side the bride's house, and struck up a tune every time a conveyance stopped to set down visitors. Some of these were stiff old grandfathers, and stout, heavy women, who had to be helped down by three men; the smiling young girls, with their floating red ribbons, sprang out into the arms of any youth who came forward.
All the "Friends," both from Skibberup itself and the surrounding country, had been invited, but most of the young folks were only to come to the dance. Even old Erik was limping about with his Sunday crutch, while, with a beaming face, he snuffed the savoury odours of roast meat which hung about the house, and filled both the courtyard and the garden.
The director of the High School, who had been becalmed on the Fiord, now arrived with his Jetté, a tall bony female with a red face and spectacles. He hobbled about among the guests with a broad, benignant smile; slapping the men on the shoulder, shaking hands with the women, making lively remarks, and slyly pinching the cheeks of the girls. The weaver, on the other hand, went about silently with his hands on his back, smiling ambiguously first on one side of his face and then on the other.
When all the guests were assembled, Villing appeared on the outer stone steps in white gloves, and clapped his hands. Then, with the musicians and the bridal pair at the head, the wedding party walked in solemn procession to the flag-
