"Under all this Jon Hatlen is hidden, I suppose," thought Oyvind, but still stared constantly at her.
Now came the school-master.

All left their places and stormed about him.
"What number am I ?"--"And I ?"--"And I--I ?" "Hush! you overgrown young ones! No uproar here! Be quiet and you shall hear about it, children." He looked slowly around.

"You are number two," said he to a boy with blue eyes, who was gazing up at him most beseechingly; and the boy danced out of the circle.

"You are number three," he tapped a red-haired, active little fellow who stood tugging at his jacket.

"You are number five; you number eight," and so on.