secrets of his father's trade. Therefore, from the time the boy

was old enough to sit or to crawl in the shavings without getting
his mouth and eyes full of sawdust, he gave him a place under the

turning bench, and talked or sang to him while he worked. And
Bonnyboy, in the meanwhile amused himself by getting into all

sorts of mischief. If it had not been for the belief that a good
workman must grow up in the atmosphere of the shop, Grim would

have lost patience with his son and sent him back to his mother,
who had better facilities for taking care of him. But the fact

was he was too fond of the boy to be able to dispense with him,
and he would rather bear the loss resulting from his mischief

than miss his prattle and his pretty dimpled face.
It was when the child was eighteen or nineteen months old that he

acquired the name Bonnyboy. A woman of the neighborhood, who had
called at the shop with some article of furniture which she

wanted to have mended, discovered the infant in the act of
investigating a pot of blue paint, with a part of which he had

accidentally decorated his face.
"Good gracious! what is that ugly thing you have got under your

turning bench?" she cried, staring at the child in amazement.
"No, he is not an ugly thing," replied the father, with

resentment; "he is a bonny boy, that's what he is."
The woman, in order to mollify Grim, turned to the boy, and

asked, with her sweetest manner, "What is your name, child?"
"Bonny boy," murmured the child, with a vaguely offended

air--"bonny boy."
And from that day the name Bonnyboy clung to him.

II.
To teach Bonnyboy the trade of a carpenter was a task which would

have exhausted the patience of all the saints in the calendar.
If there was any possible way of doing a thing wrong, Bonnyboy

would be sure to hit upon that way. When he was eleven years old
he chopped off the third joint of the ring-finger on his right

hand with a cutting tool while working the turning-lathe; and by
the time he was fourteen it seemed a marvel to his father that he

had any fingers left at all. But Bonnyboy persevered in spite of
all difficulties, was always cheerful and of good courage, and

when his father, in despair, exclaimed: "Well, you will never
amount to anything, Bonnyboy," he would look up with his slow,

winning smile and say:
"Don't worry, father. Better luck next time."

"But, my dear boy, how can I help worrying, when you don't learn
anything by which you can make your living?"

"Oh, well, father," said Bonnyboy, soothingly (for he was
beginning to feel sorry on his father's account rather than on

his own), "I wouldn't bother about that if I were you. I don't
worry a bit. Something will turn up for me to do, sooner or

later."
"But you'll do it badly, Bonnyboy, and then you won't get a

second chance. And then, who knows but you may starve to death.
You'll chop off the fingers you have left; and when I am dead and

can no longer look after you, I am very much afraid you'll manage
to chop off your head too."

"Well," observed Bonnyboy, cheerfully, "in that case I shall not
starve to death."

Grim had to laugh in spite of himself at the paternal way in
which his son comforted him, as if he were the party to be

pitied. Bonnyboy's unfailing cheerfulness, which had its great
charm, began to cause him uneasiness, because he feared it was

but another form of stupidity. A cleverer boy would have been
sorry for his mistakes and anxious about his own future. But

Bonnyboy looked into the future with the serene confidence of a
child, and nothing under the sun ever troubled him, except his

father's tendency to worry. For he was very fond of his father,
and praised him as a paragon of skill and excellence. He

lavished an abjectadmiration on everything he did and said. His
dexterity in the use of tools, and his varied accomplishments as

a watch-maker and a horse-doctor, filled Bonnyboy with ungrudging
amazement. He knew it was a hopeless thing for him to aspire to

rival such genius, and he took the thing philosophically, and did
not aspire.

It occurred to Grim one day, when Bonnyboy had made a most
discouraging exhibition of his awkwardness, that it might be a

good thing to ask the pastor's advice in regard to him. The
pastor had had a long experience in educating children, and his

own, though they were not all clever, promised to turn out well.
Accordingly Grim called at the parsonage, was well received, and

returned home charged to the muzzle with good advice. The pastor
lent him a book full of stories, and recommended him to read them

to his son, and afterward question him about every single fact
which each story contained. This the pastor had found to be a

good way to develop the intellect of a backward boy.
III.

When Bonnyboy had been confirmed, the question again rose what
was to become of him. He was now a tall young fellow,

red-checked, broad-shouldered, and strong, and rather
nice-looking. A slow, good-natured smile spread over his face

when anyone spoke to him, and he had a way of flinging his head
back, when the tuft of yellow hair which usually hung down over

his forehead obscured his sight. Most people liked him, even
though they laughed at him behind his back; but to his face

nobody laughed, because his strength inspired respect. Nor did
he know what fear was when he was roused; but that was probably,

as people thought, because he did not know much of anything. At
any rate, on a certain occasion he showed that there was a limit

to his good-nature, and when that limit was reached, he was not
as harmless a fellow as he looked.

On the neighboring farm of Gimlehaug there was a wedding to which
Grim and his son were invited. On the afternoon of the second

wedding day--for peasantweddings in Norway are often celebrated
for three days--a notorious bully named Ola Klemmerud took it

into his head to have some sport with the big good-natured
simpleton. So, by way of pleasantry, he pulled the tuft of hair

which hung down upon Bonnyboy's forehead.
"Don't do that," said Bonnyboy.

Ola Klemmerud chuckled, and the next time he passed Bonnyboy,
pinched his ear.

"If you do that again I sha'n't like you," cried Bonnyboy.
The innocence of that remark made the people laugh, and the

bully, seeing that their sympathy was on his side, was encouraged
to continue his teasing. Taking a few dancing steps across the

floor, he managed to touch Bonnyboy's nose with the toe of his
boot, which feat again was rewarded with a burst of laughter.

The poor lad quietly blew his nose, wiped the perspiration off
his brow with a red handkerchief, and said, "Don't make me mad,

Ola, or I might hurt you."
This speech struck the company as being immensely funny, and they

laughed till the tears ran down their cheeks. At this moment
Grim entered, and perceived at once that Ola Klemmerud was

amusing the company at his son's expense. He grew hot about his
ears, clinched his teeth, and stared challengingly at the bully.

The latter began to feel uncomfortable, but he could not stop at
this point without turning the laugh against himself, and that he

had not the courage to do. So in order to avoid rousing the
father's wrath, and yet preserving his own dignity, he went over

to Bonnyboy, rumpled his hair with both his hands, and tweaked
his nose. This appeared such innocent sport, according to his

notion, that no rational creature could take offence at it. But
Grim, whose sense of humor was probably defective, failed to see

it in that light.
"Let the boy alone," he thundered.