Lukas, the rich peasant, good neighbour and well accredited man, had hardly been prepared for this answer.
‘What is it you would have had against me, or what’s wrong with me?’ he cried, and the blood mounted to his face.
The old man was startled by his violence.
‘Don’t shout,’ he calmed him timidly, ‘do you not know that we sin against God Almighty when we give way to vain wrath and fury?’
‘Why then, tell me straight out why you would not have cared to give me your daughter. Did you consider me a spendthrift or a windbag? Or did you think she wouldn’t have had enough to eat in my house? Perhaps you don’t care to give her to me now?’
‘Oh yes, I am quite willing to give her to you. How should I not, since you hold her so dear?’
‘And is that the only reason?’
‘Let me alone with your questions if every answer makes you wild.’
‘I shall ask what I want to know! I want to know what’s wrong with me, and why you don’t give me your daughter as willingly as I should wish.’
The Moper pondered for a considerable
