hurrah!iftheyaredeafandblind,

we'llsing,thoughweatherproveunkind."

andnowcamethepresent;butthebridalpairhadnothingtoeat,forlovewastobetheirfood.

"shallwegotoacountryhouse,ortravel?"askedthebridegroom.

thentheyconsultedtheswallowwhohadtravelledsofar,andtheoldhenintheyard,whohadbroughtupfivebroodsofchickens.

andtheswallowtalkedtothemofwarmcountries,wherethegrapeshanginlargeclustersonthevines,andtheairissoftandmild,andaboutthemountainsglowingwithcolorsmorebeautifulthanwecanthinkof.

"buttheyhavenoredcabbagelikewehave,"saidthehen,"iwasonceinthecountrywithmychickensforawholesummer,therewasalargesand-pit,inwhichwecouldwalkaboutandscratchasweliked.thenwegotintoagardeninwhichgrewredcabbage;oh,howniceitwas,icannotthinkofanythingmoredelicious."

"butonecabbagestalkisexactlylikeanother,"saidtheswallow;"andherewehaveoftenbadweather."

"yes,butweareaccustomedtoit,"saidthehen.

"butitissocoldhere,andfreezessometimes."

"coldweatherisgoodforcabbages,"saidthehen;"besideswedohaveitwarmheresometimes.fouryearsago,wehadasummerthatlastedmorethanfiveweeks,anditwassohotonecouldscarcelybreathe.andtheninthiscountrywehavenopoisonousanimals,andwearefreefromrobbers.hemustbewickedwhodoesnotconsiderourcountrythefinestofalllands.heoughtnottobeallowedtolivehere."andthenthehenweptverymuchandsaid,"ihavealsotravelled.ioncewenttwelvemilesinacoop,anditwasnotpleasanttravellingatall."

"thehenisasensiblewoman,"saidthedollbertha."idon'tcarefortravellingovermountains,justtogoupandcomedown,letusgotothesand-pitinfrontofthegate,andthentakeawalkinthecabbagegarden."

andsotheysettledit.saturday

saturday

"amitohearanymorestories?"askedlittlehjalmar,assoonasole-luk-oiehadsenthimtosleep.

"weshallhavenotimethisevening,"saidhe,spreadingouthisprettiestumbrellaoverthechild."lookatthesechinese,"andthenthewholeumbrellaappearedlikealargechinabowl,withbluetreesandpointedbridges,uponwhichstoodlittlechinamennoddingtheirheads."wemustmakealltheworldbeautifulforto-morrowmorning,"saidole-luk-oie,"foritwillbeaholiday,itissunday.imustnowgotothechurchsteepleandseeifthelittlespriteswholivetherehavepolishedthebells,sothattheymaysoundsweetly.thenimustgointothefieldsandseeifthewindhasblownthedustfromthegrassandtheleaves,andthemostdifficulttaskofallwhichihavetodo,istotakedownallthestarsandbrightenthemup.ihavetonumberthemfirstbeforeiputtheminmyapron,andalsotonumbertheplacesfromwhichitakethem,sothattheymaygobackintotherightholes,orelsetheywouldnotremain,andweshouldhaveanumberoffallingstars,fortheywouldalltumbledownoneaftertheother."

"harkye!mr.luk-oie,"saidanoldportraitwhichhungonthewallofhjalmar'sbedroom."doyouknowme?iamhjalmar'sgreat-grandfather.ithankyoufortellingtheboystories,butyoumustnotconfusehisideas.thestarscannotbetakendownfromtheskyandpolished;theyaresphereslikeourearth,whichisagoodthingforthem."

"thankyou,oldgreat-grandfather,"saidole-luk-oie."ithankyou;youmaybetheheadofthefamily,asnodoubtyouare,butiamolderthanyou.iamanancientheathen.theoldromansandgreeksnamedmethedream-god.ihavevisitedthenoblesthouses,andcontinuetodoso;stilliknowhowtoconductmyselfbothtohighandlow,andnowyoumaytellthestoriesyourself:"andsoole-luk-oiewalkedoff,takinghisumbrellaswithhim.

"well,well,oneisnevertogiveanopinion,isuppose,"grumbledtheportrait.anditwokehjalmar.sunday

sunday

"goodevening,"saidole-luk-oie.

hjalmarnodded,andthensprangoutofbed,andturnedhisgreat-grandfather'sportraittothewall,sothatitmightnotinterruptthemasithaddoneyesterday."now,"saidhe,"youmusttellmesomestoriesaboutfivegreenpeasthatlivedinonepod;orofthechickseedthatcourtedthechickweed;orofthedarningneedle,whoactedsoproudlybecauseshefanciedherselfanembroideryneedle."

"youmayhavetoomuchofagoodthing,"saidole-luk-oie."youknowthatilikebesttoshowyousomething,soiwillshowyoumybrother.heisalsocalledole-luk-oiebuthenevervisitsanyonebutonce,andwhenhedoescome,hetakeshimawayonhishorse,andtellshimstoriesastheyridealong.heknowsonlytwostories.oneoftheseissowonderfullybeautiful,thatnooneintheworldcanimagineanythingatalllikeit;buttheotherisjustasuglyandfrightful,sothatitwouldbeimpossibletodescribeit."thenole-luk-oieliftedhjalmaruptothewindow."therenow,youcanseemybrother,theotherole-luk-oie;heisalsocalleddeath.youperceiveheisnotsobadastheyrepresenthiminpicturebooks;thereheisaskeleton,butnowhiscoatisembroideredwithsilver,andhewearsthesplendiduniformofahussar,andamantleofblackvelvetfliesbehindhim,overthehorse.look,howhegallopsalong."hjalmarsawthatasthisole-luk-oierodeon,heliftedupoldandyoung,andcarriedthemawayonhishorse.someheseatedinfrontofhim,andsomebehind,butalwaysinquiredfirst,"howstandsthemark-book?"