Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/153

 Her name I would rather tell you, The name of the girl, you know

Nay, now we will chat together, But only of this and that,— Forget what's awry and crooked, And all that is sharp and sore. Are you thirsty? I'll fetch you water. Can you stretch you? The bed is short. Let me see;—if I don't believe, now, It's the bed that I had when a boy! Do you mind, dear, how oft in the evenings You sat at my bedside here, And spread the fur-coverlet o'er me, And sang many a lilt and lay?

Ay, mind you? And then we played sledges, When your father was far abroad. The coverlet served for sledge-apron, And the floor for an ice-bound fiord.

Ah, but the best of all, though,— Mother, you mind that too? The best was the fleet-foot horses

Ay, think you that I've forgot?— It was Kari's cat that we borrowed; It sat on the log-scooped chair

To the castle west of the moon, and The castle east of the sun,