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Tales from the Fjeld

behaved better than any one would have believed. He was not the best ploughboy in the world, sure enough; but then his master was not of the best sort either, for he let him go the whole time with the same clothes he had when he came, so that at last they were nothing else but patch on patch and mend on mend. Now, when the man was to set off and buy, he was up and away at cockcrow, long before dawn.

"Dear wares must be seen by daylight," he said; "they are not to be found on the road to town so early. Still, they may be dear enough, for after all it's all risk and chance what I find."

Well, the first person he found in the street was an old hag, and she carried a basket with a cover.

"Good day, granny," said the man.

"Good day to you, father," said the old hag.

"What have you got in your basket?" asked the man.

"Do you mean business?" said the old hag.

"Yes, I do, for I was to buy the first thing I met."

"Well, if you want to know you had better buy it," said the old hag.

"But what does it cost?" asked the man.

Yes! she must have fourpence.

The man thought that no such very high price after all. He couldn't do better, and lifted the lid, and it was a puppy that lay in the basket.

When the man came home from his trip to town, the lad stood out in the yard, and wondered what he should get for his wages for the first year.

"So soon home, master?" said the lad.

Yes, he was.