"Go up," cried Mother,--"I wist my boys are deep in tears!"--and
I, not wishing to see you drown in so much water--
HOLGER. (_Patting his arm_) Dear Uncle Bertel!
STEEN. (_Rising on his knees_) Come, let's go quick!
BERTEL. Patience, patience, young colt, plenty of time, mother said
something else.
STEEN. What?
BERTEL. (_His eye on the shelf above the fire_) That I should find some
warm porridge for my pains.
HOLGER. (_Springing to his feet_) Why, of course, there _is_
porridge! (_He goes to the shelf_) Nice and warm it is! All ready
for supper. (_He hands the first bowl to_ BERTEL, STEEN _capers
nimbly across the intervening space and seats himself on the side of the
hearth, facing_ BERTEL, _his back to the audience_)
STEEN. Supper! How could we forget supper?--Give me a _big_ bowlful,
Holger.
HOLGER. (_Handing_ STEEN _his porridge_) There isn't a _big_
bowlful here.
STEEN. (_Taking the bowl and hugging it_) Nice kind good supper, umh!
(_Begins to eat eagerly_)
HOLGER. (_Suddenly looking toward the door_) Listen!
BERTEL. To what?
HOLGER. (_Awed, hesitant_) Someone--sobbing--at the door! (_He goes
to it, the others watching him startled, he opens the door, finds nothing,
closes it and comes back_) Nothing there!
BERTEL.
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