"
"Let me see!"
"Whoever beard of such a thing! Surely, I must have something to laugh
at."
"I do not need that when I am happy."
"Are you happy now, Marit?"
"Pray, am I laughing now?"
"Yes; you are, indeed."
He took both her hands in his and clapped them together over and over
again, gazing into her face. Here the dog began to growl, then his
hair bristled and he fell to barking at something below, growing more
and more savage, and finally quite furious. Marit sprang back in
alarm; but Oyvind went forward and looked down. It was his father the
dog was barking at. He was standing at the foot of the cliff with both
hands in his pockets, gazing at the dog.
"Are you there, you two? What mad dog is that you have up there?"
"It is the dog from the Heidegards," answered Oyvind, somewhat
embarrassed.
"How the deuce did it get up there?"
Now the mother had put her head out of the kitchen door, for she had
heard the dreadful noise, and at once knew what it meant; and laughing,
she said,--
"That dog is roaming about there every day, so there is nothing
remarkable in it."
"Well, I must say it is a fierce dog."
"It will behave better if I stroke it," thought Oyvind, and he did so.
The dog stopped barking, but growled. The father walked away as though
he knew nothing, and the two on the cliff were saved from discovery.
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