---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Nephi Anderson
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 5
number: 4
published: 1902-02
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'Nephi Anderson, "The Castle Builder. IV, V," *Improvement Era* 5, no. 4 (February 1902): 265–279.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0504unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera0504unse
start_page: 265
end_page: 279
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1902-02)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0504unse
  publication_year: 1902
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1902, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# The Castle Builder. IV, V

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THE CASTLE BUILDER.
» "»
3Y NEPHI ANDERSON, AUTHOR OP ADDED UPON," MARCUS KING
MORMON," ETC.
PART FIRST.
IV.
ALONG THE COAST TO THE LAND OF ICE AND SNOW.
If there was one form of out door exercise that Harald Einer-
-sen in joyed more than another, it was to climb to the top of some
high elevation that he might stand and look out over the surround-
ing view. It was often a hard task to scale some of the highest
peaks around the Lif jord, but that wonderful feeling of expansion
which his soul experienced when the summit had been reached,
amply paid for the exertion. So, this afternoon, when there was a
pause in the chopping, which seemingly would last all the remain-
der of the day, Harald, instead of taking it easy as the other chop-
pers were doing, resolved to walk up through the pines to the top
of a nearby ridge that he might gaze on what lay beyond. He was
always saying to himself that he wished to see "what was just be-
yond."
Harald cut a stout birch cane, and left the group of men ly-
ing on the grass smoking their pipes. He, also, was a chopper this
summer, the third year after his confirmation, and was now out
with his father in the woods. This work had helped to make a
strong, man-like fellow out of him, and he now presented as hand-
some a picture as one would wish to see. With his cap in his hand,
and his red shirt open at the throat, he met the steep grade with

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266 IMPROVEMENT ERA.
a firm step, and in half an hour he stood on a ledge of rock from
which he could get the desired view. On one side extended the
pine clad hills; and on the other side, at his feet, lay the ocean.
He had never seen such a large stretch of the ocean before, nor
had he ever seen it in such a phase as now. He sat down with his
face turned towards it.
The sea was like glass; in the distance, it appeared like a huge
mirror spread out over the earth. Some islands lay out against
the horizon, but they seemed to be lifted up into the air, swimming
in a hazy atmosphere of warm, golden color. Sea and sky blended
into one. If a white cloud sailed through the blue of the sky, the
sea also did its best to follow with a changing patch of white.
When the air gently stooped to caress the sea, ripples of joy
seemed to dance upon its bosom.
The young man lay quietly, permitting the whole, sweet har-
mony of the elements to enter his heart; and then this spiritual
elixir penetrated into some innermost recess of his soul, touching
a secret spring. Ah, the Viking blood stirs within him; sluggishly
at first, then swifter and swifter, until at last his whole body
tingles. The sea calls, and he answers. The wind greets him
and he knows its voice. The waves come rolling towards him;
they must stop on the strand below, but he hears them, and under-
stands their message. "I will come to thee, I will come to thee,"
he whispers, as if he were speaking to a shy maiden at his side.
Then, as he was gazing and dreaming, an ancient Viking fleet seemed
to sail before him. The long, open boats, each with its one square
sail filled with wind, came gliding into the scene one by one, until
the whole wide expanse was dotted with them. Each ship had a
real shield at the prow, a sign of war, and each vessel was filled
with warriors whose battle-axes and spears glistened in the sun.
Then the whole fleet seemed to sail slowly into the distance, and
Harald's heart was dravm out with the departing boats, until at
length when they disappeared behind the horizon, the young man
leaped to his feet as if he would follow the departing Vikings, to
take part in the raids they had planned against some southern
shores.
The sound of ringing axes came from below. Harald shook

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THE CASTLE BUILDER. 267
himself as if to be free from some charmed power, and then
betook himself to work again; but that same afternoon, he made
up his mind to accept the invitation his Uncle Erik had sent him
to come to Nordland and join him in his trip to the fishing grounds
of Lofoten, the coming winter.
Einer Gundersen had no objections to Harald going to Nord-
land. There was small opportunity for a young man of Harald's
disposition in or around Updal, and at Lofoten there was always a
chance of doing something profitable. Harald, of course, counselled
with his grandmother about it. Halger was now the herder, and
stayed with his grandmother when Harald was away; and the old
lady enjoyed better health than she had for years.
"Yes; my boy," she had said to him, "I don't see why you
shouldn't go. You are a big, strong boy, and I believe as true as
you are strong. I think I can trust you now. I think I can trust
you to do right under all circumstances, and I do not see
why you should not have your chances in life. But Nordland
and Lofoten is a hard life, and you know you are not much of a
sailor,"
"It's not hard to learn, I hope, such a trifle as that, grand-
mother!"
So it was satisfactorily arranged, and Uncle Erik sent him
money enough to pay his fare to Sandstad.
It was in the latter part of August, when he was ready. He
was to go early, that he might take part in some summer fishing
before he should go to the more strenuous life at Lofoten.
On the morning of his departure, the whole household was
astir. Little Hulda cried when her father lifted Harald's little
wooden box to carry it down to the landing, and so Harald lifted
her onto his shoulders and carried her down, while the rest of the
family followed. They all tried to appear pleased, but it was use-
less to try to conceal the deep emotions under which they were
laboring. This was Harald's first long trip away from home, and
there was no telling what might befall him ere h^ returned — and
he might never return at all — the sea is such a cruel thing to deal
with. The step-mother, whom Harald had so often of late helped
and comforted, took the parting quite to heart, and there were

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268 IMPROVEMENT ERA.
tears in the eyes of the father when he pressed Harald's hand and
said:
"Goodby, my son; be a good boy, and — and, don't drink,
Harald, shun liquor as you would the very gates of hell. Fishermen
are rough, and they drink much, but don't you do it, Harald, that's
a father's last words to you, should he never see you again!"
Even Harald joined in the general sobbing — all but grand-
mother—she smiled still.
"Goodby, Harald," she said, as she patted one cheek and kissed
the other, "God bless you, and bring you safely home again."
Harald jumped into his boat, and, seizing the oars, was soon
speeding down the fjord. They all stood on the bank waving their
hats and handkerchiefs, until a projecting bank hid them from his
sight.
It was a good half day's row, down the fjord to Vangen, but
Harald did not wish the distance shorter that morning. He wished
to take a last look at the familiar scenes of mountain, dell
and water, wherein he had herded his sheep, picked berries and
fished for the wily trout. Just down that beautiful, grassy slope,
one summer day, with some other boys, he remembered, having
rolled old man Hansen's grind stone. What a beautiful sight it
had been, and what a fearful splash it made as it bounded into the
deep waters of the fjord! He also remembered how much money
the boys had been compelled to obtain to buy a new one. Here also
was the cosy nook under the crags, where he had become so in-
terested in castle building that he had neglected his sheep. Just
on that ledge, Thora sat, and he had lifted her down. What a
wee, slender thing she had been, and now — why the last time he
saw her, she appeared so like a grown young lady that he had not
dared to speak to her.
The boat glided smoothly towards Vangen. The rower must
have reached beyond the region of his boyhood resorts, for now his
thoughts were not so much with hill and vale as with the face and
form of a pale girl who looked so much like a young woman.
Harald tied his boat at the wharf where the steamer was to
touch. He had an hour yet to wait. Asking a ferryman at the
wharf to keep an eye on his boat until his father should come after
it, he strolled up the business street of the little town.

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THE CASTLE BUILDER. 269
He intended buying a few articles for his journey, but was a
little nervous about going to Merchant Bernhard's, his usual place
of business; why, he scarcely knew. Certainly he would like to
say goodby to Thora, but somehow there was an unusual fear about
it, so he walked by the store without looking in. "How silly I am
getting!" he said to himself. "Thora doesn't work in the store.
What's the matter with me, any way? Thora is a rich merchant's
daughter — I am a sheep-herder — a wood-chopper." Turning sud-
denly, he went into the store and made his purchases.
Now the nearest way to the steamboat landing was directly
down the street again, but Harald had abundance of time, so decid-
ed to take a stroll another way, that thereby he might pass a white-
painted house, set back in a large grass patch, — the Bernhard resi-
dence. It was a beautiful place, and it would do no harm to take
a last look at it. He saw Thora the moment he turned the corner.
She was at work in the garden, and, just as he passed the gate,
she spied him. Her straw hat was lying on the grass, she had a
small flower shovel in her hand. When she saw Harald coming,
she pushed the hair from her eyes, and said:
"Good day, Harald. You are just in time to help me. I was
just wishing some one would come along to assist me with this
flower. I want to carry it into the conservatory. Won't you help
me?"
Pushing the little gate open Harald went in. He took the
tub containing the plant, and lifted it up on his shoulder, saying,
"Tell me where to put it."
"Oh, but I wanted to help you!" she exclaimed. He laughed,
walked across the grass to the glass-covered house at the side of
the dwelling, putting his burden down in the spot directed.
"Now, you'll excuse me if I run away so hurriedly," he said.
"I mustn't miss the steamer."
"Are you going away?"
"Yes; up to Nordland, to Uncle Erik's. Goodby," and he
held out his hand.
"Well, I didn't know you were going so far. — Well — ah
there's plenty of time — the steamer's always late — Well, thank
you for your help, Harald, goodby," and she shook his hand.
He hurried away and down to the landing, wishing the steamer

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270 IMPROVEMENT ERA.
would come. It was past due now. He had taken his box and the
basket containing his lunch on to the pier, and was now pacing
back and forth. Ten minutes, twenty minutes passed, then he
heard the steamer's whistle, down the fjord. Coming up to the
warf, it lay there fully fifteen minutes longer, while the men
leisurely unloaded a few boxes, and took on board other articles of
freight.
Stowing his box safely away in a corner between decks,
Harald went up again, just as the men were getting ready to
throw off the ropes, when he beheld Thora Bernhard coming down
the pier. Seeing him at the railing, she walked up the gang
plank and handed him a small basket, saying: "This is for your
lunch, Harald, goodby." Then she stood on the wharf waving her
hand to him. He thought he beheld a soft color of red in each
pale cheek, as the steamer took him farther and farther down the
opening waters of the fjord.
That day he saw some of the wonders of Norway's coastline
scenery. Hour after hour, the steamer plowed its way through the
maze of fjords and sounds, whose still, deep waters, protected by
the outlying islands from the rough winds and waves of the ocean,
reflected in its surface the gray of the barren mountains. Every
few hours, the steamer headed up some fjord, stopping at a small
town consisting often of but a few houses huddled together under
a mountain wall. Then back again, and in and out of channels so
narrow that a stone could be thrown to either side. Harald kept
on deck most of the time, but when evening came, he went down
to his box where the heat from the engine was not uncomfortable.
The next morning the steamer lay in the wharf at the city
of Trondhjem, and since it would be some hours before it sailed
Harald walked up into the city. He was much interested in what
he saw, this being the first time he had been in a large city.
Especially was he interested in its ancient cathedral, of which he
had read, and to which Norway's kings formerly came to be crowned.
In the afternoon the steamer plowed on again. That night
they left the still waters of a protected fjord to get out into the
open sea to round a headland. The boat pitched quite lively, but
Harald stood it quite well. In the morning they were again

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* THE CASTLE BUILDER. 271
behind some islands, only now and then catching a glimpse of the
sea through the openings between two islands.
The youth seemed to be getting a long way from home. Yet
he enjoyed the journey greatly. There was so much to see that
was new to him, while the grand scenery appealed forcibly to his
nature. As the steamer crept on jiorthward, he beheld the change
in the nature of the country, and saw that the green spots of
earth became fewer and smaller as they came nearer the land of
perpetual ice and snow. The air, also, became keen, especially at
night, and now and then he caught a glimpse of newly fallen snow,
on the summits of mountains towards the north. Then, life on
board was full of oddities, and there were many strange people
whose ways and talk were entertaining to the inexperienced boy.
His lunch baskets were getting low. Of course, he had not
waited long to inspect the basket given him by Thora, and he had
found it to contain a liberal supply of fine wheat bread, buttered,
and laid with slices of cheese and sausage. Then there was a
small honey-cake, and a piece of smoked salmon. These dainties
he had kept as a dessert to his usual meal of rye bread and coffee,
eating sparingly of them that they might prolong his pleasure.
But the third day out, the larger basket was empty, and the
smaller one contained but one piece of the cake. Sandstad was to
be reached that evening, and Harald thought he would be able to
manage until he arrived there. Buying meals at the steamer's
dining-table was beyond his purse. So he nibbled as his cake. It
was certainly genuine honey-cake, and not the cheap imitation
made from molasses, such as was sold at the booths at the markets.
He could taste the flavor of the honey in it. "I wish there were
more of it," he mused. '*! wonder if Thora baked it herself."
He had heard that Thora was an excellent cook, and could make
all kinds of dainty things. ''Hallo, I believe there is another
piece left. Strange, I did not see it before. Wrapped up in a
separate piece of paper, and crushed, too, all out of shape. What
a shame!"
He lifted the small package from the bottom of the basket,
took off the double wrapping of paper, and in his hand lay, not a
piece of honey-cake, but a rose — a large, beautiful, red rose, now
crushed and quite withered. Harald was standing, at the time,

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272 . IMPROVEMENT ERA.
down near the engine room, but the smell from the machinery-
seemed to stifle him, and so he made his way up on deck. He put
the rose in his coat pocket, and went to the extreme point of the
vessel's prow where he could be alone. Then he took the flower
out and smelled its fragrance. Tenderly he turned it over, and
a few detached petals dropped to the deck. He picked them up
again. What did it mean? Had Thora intentionally put it there.
There could be no doubt of that, as the same kind of paper had
enwrapped the cake and the rose. He looked at it for a long
time, then carefully enfolded it between the leaves of a note book,
and placed that in an inner pocket of his jacket.
He leaned over the railing, and watched the white wave
spreading out from the steamer's prow. The sun sank in the
west, and a path of golden light reached from the horizon to the
vessel. The sublime solitude of a northern fjord brooded over all,
and the silence seemed broken only by the rhythmical turning of
the steamer's propeller. Suddenly the hoarse whistle belched
forth the signal for Sandstad. Boats are now coming out to meet
them, and Harald hurriedly carried his baggage up on deck. The
boats lay alongsides, while an iron door was opened in the side of
the steamer out of which he stepped.
"Is that you, Harald?" shouted a big, red-bearded man, whom
Harald took to be his uncle Erik.
"Yes," answered Harald.
"All right, jump in. Anything else? Heave your box in.
Be careful, boy, our boat dances like a cork."
Then they shoved away, the steamer went on its course, and
Uncle Erik pulled with long, steady strokes towards the shore.
V.
HOME LIFE IN THE FAR NORTH.
Sandstad consisted of a score or more houses grouped on the
small, level area where a valley opened out upon Lundfjord. A
stream came dashing down the valley from a small lake not half a
mile from the sea. The mountains all about were high and steep.
That which Harald had often called "the everlasting pine forest"^

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♦ THE CASTLE BUILDER. 273
was here absent. Not one tree could be seen an3rwhere, but over
the hillsides were patches of white-birch, willows, and brush. ■
Erik Svensen's house stood a few rods up from the strand. It
was two stories high, boarded, and painted white. The side of the
roof towards the sea was covered with wooden shingles, but the
side away from the direction of storms and winds, was covered with
a green sod. All the houses were of one general type, save that
some showed the bare logs, and were devoid of paint.
Uncle Erik rowed up to the landing by the boat-house. The
two leaped out, and the boat was drawn upon the sand. Shoulder-
ing his box, Harald followed his uncle to the house, where he
was kindly received by his aunt Karen and his cousin Dagmar, a
fair-haired, rosy-cheeked girl of sixteen. A number of other
cousins were married and lived at other places on the island.
Sandstad was located on one of the larger islands, just north of the
Lofoten group.
True to the Norwegian custom, the first thing that Harald
must do was to eat. There was a whispered consultation between
Dagmar and her mother, and then a white cloth was spread over
the table. China dishes, knives, forks, spoons, and, in fact, all the
i;able settings were displayed that Harald occasionally had seen
at the home of some well-to-do bonde* in his own locality. Harald
sat by the tall, square stove in the corner, in which a slow turf
fire was burning, and watched with much interest Dagmar at work.
Soon the table was set, and Harald must at once eat, while Dag-
mar served him. He was not naturally timid, but, this being the
first time he had thus been so much honored, he found it some-
what difficult to act properly. He was hungry from his day's fast,
but he could eat scarcely half of the bowl of thick milk which
Dagmar had prepared by sprinkling sugar and cake crumbs over
the thick cream. Then there was the delicious, crisp flad hrod,
(dry, thin, fiat bread) the fresh cod, the cold potatoes, and
coffee.
"Now you must eat, Harald," urged his aunt. "You have
had a long journey, and I know you must be hungry. You are
quite welcome to our poor fare. We haven't much cooked to day,
* A freeholder on a small scale — either for life or for inheritance.

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274 IMPROVEMENT ERA.
but I hope you'll make out a supper." Thus the good aunt talked
and urged, until Harald could eat no more, when she reluctantly
let him get up from the table.
Soon Uncle Erick and some hired helpers came in. The table
was reset, the white table cloth being taken off, and a large dish
of mush being placed before each person. The mush was eaten,
each spoonful being dipped into a cup of milk, placed by each plate
— more to cool it than as a part of the dish.
After supper, the men lighted their pipes, and soon the room
was filled with smoke. It nearly stifled Harald, as he was not ac-
customed to such an atmosphere, but he had to bear it, while he was-
kept busy answering the many questions about the folks down at"
Opdal. Dagmar sat in the further corner of the room with her
knitting, and Harald saw her as through a haze, and he wondered
how she could endure breathing the thick tobacco smoke.
After an hour or more of conversation. Aunt Karen came to
his rescue, declaring that he must be tired. She led him up stairs
to his room, and, placing the lamp on a little table, bade him good
night. When she had gone, Harald looked in wonder about the
room. The walls and ceiling were boarded and painted. The
floor was also painted. There was a table with a fancy cloth on,,
a bureau, with a glass hanging over it, and some spindle-legged,
straight-backed chairs which he was afraid to sit on. On the bed
were two down mattresses, of which he knew only this, that he
must sleep between them. The top one must have been made of
the genuine eider-down, since it puffed up as if it had been filled
with air when he moved it. It was difficult for him to go to sleep-
that night, tired though he was. Thoughts of Opdal would come,
and how he was resting snugly between soft, warm down, while
poor grandmother was sleeping as usual on her bed of sheepskins.
The little one-roomed hut had a charm about it yet, especially
when he was so far from it. Grandmother ought to live in such a
room, and sleep in such a bed as he was in! As she got older, her
bones would ache more — and then, he wondered if Halger would
provide her with plenty of wood. His first money should go to
grandmother, and — yes, if God would give him strength and
prosper his efforts, grandmother should yet have comfort in her-
old age.

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THE CASTLE BUILDER. 275
Harald found that life in Nordland was quite different from
what it was farther south. Even the language was spoken with a
peculiar accent, and he had difficulty in understanding some of the
older people. The short summer was drawing to a close, and
every man, woman and child that could be spared, were out in the
fields gathering the precious harvest of .barley and potatoes; so his
help came timely to overworked Uncle Erik. The barley had
yielded well that summer, and the land had been favored with a
few days of bright, sunny weather, so that the sheaves could be
gotten dry to the barn. The potatoes seemed unusually small to
him, but he was told that they were quite large for Nordland. He
and Dagmar did nearly all the potato harvesting, he digging up the
potatoes with a heavy pointed hoe, while Dagmar gathered them
into sacks.
The strangeness of associating with a girl instead of with boys,
as he had done all his previous Hfe, soon wore away, and the two
cousins became good friends and companions. Dagmar was some-
what proud of her strong, good-looking cousin, and it was not long
before she acquainted him with most of the people at Sandstad.
The Sunday rest was used to advantage. There was no church at
Sandstad, but usually some traveling preacher held services in the
school house; nearly everybody attended, no matter to what de-
nomination the preacher belonged.
After the rush of harvest was over, there were still a few days
of pleasant weather, and so Dagmar fulfilled a promise to take
Harald across the fjord to visit a married sister. The sky was
free from clouds that morning, but the breeze came steadily from
the sea, filling the one square sail which Dagmar herself lifted
half way up the mast.
"You are a landsman, a farmer," she laughingly said to Har-
ald, "you sit still on the seat, and let me manage the boat." Then
she went to the tiller and seated herself by it, laughing merrily at
him. She was a picture worth looking at, too, in her snug-fitting,
gray, flannel dress, her round, rosy face beaming with smiles
from the folds of the silken kerchief around her head. "I'll let you
help me a little," she continued. "Just raise the sail a little, will
you? I think we can stand a little more. There, that will do for
the present; we'll see how it blows, when we get further out."

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276 IMPROVEMENT ERA.
Harald enjoyed the sail. To lonnge on his seat, with nothing-
to do but to watch the porpoises make their graceful dives, and to
feel the boat, as it gently rose and fell over the waves, was a new
and novel sensation to the young man. Soon they rounded a huge,
steep cliff, from which thousands of birds flew screaming over their
heads. Then the boat was headed straight across the fjord to the
opposite shore, which soon arose steep and frowning from the
green water.
They landed at the base of a high mountain, where a small
cove made a tiny harbor. Into this enclosure, a waterfall came
tumbling from an opening in the rocky height. On one side were
a few square rods of comparatively level land, and on this, close
up to the cliffs, stood the fishermen's huts. A boat house stood
near the water, and a stone pier made it easy to land. As they
walked up the path, Harald thought, "What a neat, cosy place to
live — lonesome though, especially when the sea rolls high." Not
a soul came to meet them. Usually, either child or dog, or perhaps
both, made a great commotion when Aunt Dagmar came to see
them. It was explained when they found the housewife at work
in the bake house mixing bread, and making great stacks of dough
ready for the baking; the two children were fast asleep; and the
dog was away on the other side of the island with Johan, the hus-
band.
Cousin Maria was very much like her sister in looks. She
was pleased to meet Harald, of whom she had heard. She could
not shake hands because of the dough, and kissing is out of the
question with Norwegian kinsfolks.
"You are just in time, Dagmar," said her sister, "to help us
with the baking tonight. Johan will soon be back, and we'll be-
gin right away. Johan is preparing to go south with a boat-load
of fish, and he must have provisions. And here's Harald, he can
help, too."
"I'm always pleased to be of assistance," said he.
"You talk!" exclaimed Dagmar, "Harald is one of those good-
for-nothing southerners, you know. What does he know about
baking bread?"
The visitors were led into the main living room, and the noise
awoke the two children — a boy of two, and a girl of five — who

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THE CASTLE BUILDER. 277
took kindly to Aunt Dagmar, but were shy of the strange man. A
shining, copper coffee pot v/as placed on the stove, and Maria
spread the table for a lunch. Then Johan came in and was intro-
duced. He was a typical Norse fisherman; a big, broad-shouldered
man with light, curly hair and beard, ruddy face and blue eyes.
Harald liked him at once. He was such an open-hearted, merry
soul, that it did not take Harald long to become acquainted with
him.
As they sat around the table sipping their coffee through the
lumps of sugar, Harald noticed the interior furnishings of the
fisherman's house. It was not what he would call "fine," yet it
was cosy. It had the usual painted ceiling, but the walls were
papered. The floor was as white and clean as if the pine boards
had newly come from the plaining mill. The covering on the
folded-up bed, in the corner, was pure white. The heating stove
shone with new blacking. The two small windows were filled with
flowerS; geraniums, fuchias, and myrtles. It was, in reality, a
warm home-nest in the dreary wilds of that northern land.
Then all hands went to the baking. A birch-wood fire was
made in the big, open fire-place of the bake-house. The dough
was placed on one end of a long table, and was then moulded into
long rolls. Dagmar divided these, with one cut of her knife, into
pieces about the size of an Qgg, which she passed along to Maria,
at the other end of the table. This piece of dough Maria placed
under her rolling pin, and rolled into a round sheet the thickness
of cardboard. By this time, the fire had well heated a large, round
iron plate, set on three legs, over the fire, and Johan began his
work. With a broad, flat, wooden paddle, he lifted the thin dough
onto the hot plate, let it bake for a moment, then turned it over,
and then in another moment threw it onto the floor, which
had previously been spread with clean cloths. This, when thor-
oughly dried, was the flad brod, or flat bread, of the country.
Harald entered merrily into the work, and tried his hand at
all the processes. The rolling of the dough into strips was not
difficult, and he could likewise cut off the proper amount; but the
rolling of this lump into the proper thinness, without breaking it,
was a trick he could not so easily master; and when he tried the
baking part, he either burned his hands, or the paddle, or the

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278 IMPROVEMENT ERA.
bread. The others enjoyed his experiments, and laughed lustily at
his failures.
Night came on, black outside, but the blaze from the fire
lighted up the bake house with a ruddy glow. For hours, they
worked, until the pile on the floor grew high, and the dough was
exhausted. Then they all went to bed, well tired out.
The next afternoon saw Harald and Dagmar out on the fjord,
homeward bound. He had enjoyed his visit very much, and meant
to have more of the company of cousins Johan and Maria. How
happy they were, with their cosy home, their children, and their
love for each other! The picture appealed strongly to him. He
had known nothing of such home contentment and happiness.
Would he ever know? Would he ever be a partaker of such love?
Certainly no human being could ask for more than Johan Bernsen
had.
The sea was smooth, and the breeze was hardly strong enough
to move the boat. Dagmar was at her place by the tiller. She was
not so noisy as usual. Her kerchief had slipped down onto her
shoulders, and Harald saw the light silken curls against the back-
ground of green water; but Dagmar was thoughtful, and gazed far
out over the fjord rather than at her companion in the other end
of the boat.
Cousin Dagmar was a sweet girl; and no doubt she would make
just such a wife as her sister. She was a worker, too, and not con-
tent with the oft-times, rude environments which he had seen in
other homes. He had some time ago discovered that the best
room of his uncle's had been Dagmar's previous to his coming.
And then the picture in his thoughts became bolder in outline. He,
also, had a home nestling beneath the shelter of the crags. There
was a plot of ground in front in which grew vegetables, and flowers.
Behind the small window-panes bloomed the geranium and fuchia;
and when he came home, cold and hungry and wet from the sea,
one met him at the door — and she would kiss him, then he
would repay her, and then she would dry his clothes and set a
steaming supper on the table. Then, perhaps, rosy-fingered chil-
dren would pull at his hair, and climb on his knee. But what
would she look hke then? as sweet as she was now, on the other
side of the sail? Why was she so quiet? Perhaps it was his

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THE CASTLE BUILDER. 279
fault. He was also stupid to live so in the uncertain future, when
the real was present with him. Dagmar had treated him so kindly
"but — but, he was her cousin, and could not do less — well, it did
not cost anything to build air castles anyway.
The wind stiffened, the sail filled, and the boat went faster.
Still Dagmar was silent. It was night, ere they reached home;
and when they walked from the boat up to the house, Harald
thought she was crying. Had he dared, he would have taken her
hand and enquired about her trouble. She left him at the house.
As Harald entered, a letter was handed to him. It was from grand-
mother, the first he had received from her, since writing was no
easy task for her.
Grandmother was well, it said. The children Vere growing
fast. Halger was preparing for confirmation. Hulda often asked
about "big brother." Father was away in the forest. The school-
master had visited her and enquired after him. She had been down
to Vangen with some knitting for Merchant Bernhard — by the
way, he must not forget to let her know when he needed stock-
ings— Miss Bernhard- had treated her so kindly — had taken her into
the dining-room and given her coffee and cake. She had asked
about Harald, and had wished to be remembered to him when she
wrote. "So, of course, I had to write, Harald, if for nothing more
than to send you greetings from such a sweet young lady as Thora
Bernhard."
Harald did not tell the family the latter bit of news. He got
away to his room as soon as possible. Somehow, it seemed to him
that a fair castle which he had built that afternoon was tumbling
about his ears, and he was trying to dodge the pieces. Then,
when the tumult was over, out of the mists, away in a dim, beauti-
ful distance, there appeared to him another castle of indescribable
grace and loveliness.
Before going to bed that night, he took from the pocket of
his coat, hanging on the wall, a little note-book. A withered
rose fell into his hand, and its fragrance was laden with the sweet-
ness of remembrance.
( To be continued.)