One day his mother came in, and said to him "To-morrow the school begins again, and I shall take you there to the farm." Ovind had heard that the school was a place where little boys played together, and he had nothing to say against it. He was delighted, and ran on before his mother up the hill, full of glee and expectation. They reached the school-house, and a busy hum greeted their ears, like the sound of the water mill at home. He asked what it was. "It is the children reading," she said: then he was pleased, for he had read that way himself before he knew his letters. When he came in there were as many children sitting round the table as he had ever seen at church. Others sat on their dinner tins round the room, and some stood in small groups before a black board. The schoolmaster, an old grey-headed man, sat on a stool by the fire filling his pipe. When Ovind and his mother entered, they all looked up, and the murmur ceased, as if the mill stream were suddenly dammed. The mother said "Good morning," and shook hands with the schoolmaster.
"Here I come with a little boy who will learn to read," said the mother.
"What's the bairn's name?" said the schoolmaster, as he delved in his pouch for the tobacco.
"Ovind," said the mother; "he knows his letters and a few short words."
"Oh! indeed!" said the schoolmaster. "Come here you little white head!"
Ovind went to him, the schoolmaster lifted him on to his knee, and took off his cap. "Here's a nice little lad!" said he, and stroked his hair.
"Is it me you're laughing at?" and he frowned.
"Yes, that it is," replied Ovind, and laughed aloud. Then the schoolmaster laughed also, and the mother, so the children saw they might join, and they all laughed together.
This was the way in which Ovind entered the school.
When he had to take his seat each one wanted to make room for him, but he stood looking round and round, from side to side, with his cap in his hand and his book under his arm, while they whispered and pointed.
"What then?" said the schoolmaster, and he took his pipe again.
As the boy turned round to the schoolmaster he caught sight of Marit with the many names, sitting on a little red painted box in the chimney corner: she hid her face in both her hands and sat and peeped at him.