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the best in the world, home-made bread just
out of the oven, fresh cheese and home-brewed
ale. I wanted Ristin to share my supper, it was
evidently against etiquette, she was to have her
supper in the kitchen with the grandchildren.
The two old folk were sitting by my side watching
me while I was eating.
“Hast thou seen the King?”
No, I had not, I had not come by Stockholm,
I had come straight from another land, from
another town many times bigger than Stockholm.
Uncle Lars did not know there was a town
bigger than Stockholm.
I told Mother Kerstin how much I had admired
her beautiful wedding dress. She smiled and
said her mother had worn it at her own wedding,
God knows how many years ago.
“But surely you don’t leave the herbre open
at night?” I asked.
“Why not?” said Uncle Lars. “There is
nothing to eat in the herbre, I told you the wolves
and foxes are not likely to carry away our
clothes.”
“But somebody else might carry them away,
the herbre stands all by itself in the wood,
hundreds of yards away from your house. That
bear-skin rug alone is worth a lot of money, any
antiquarian in Stockholm would be glad to pay
several hundred riksdaler for your wife’s wedding
dress.”
The two old folk looked at me with evident
surprise.
“But didn’t you hear me tell you that I had
shot that bear myself and all the wolves as well?
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