(STEEN and HOLGER make a dash for the door, fling it open and BERTEL enters.  He is a jolly robust peasant uncle of early middle life, clad in rough gray jerkin and hose, with a dark gray cloak wrapped about him.  He so radiates cheer that the room seems warmer for his presence in it.  Nothing to be afraid of about him, the children adore him.)

STEEN. (Clinging to him, happily) Oh, Uncle, Uncle, Uncle Bertel!

HOLGER. (Seizing BERTEL on his other side) Uncle Bertel, welcome!

BERTEL. (Tousling their hair and shaking himself loose in pretended dismay) Help, help!—­Robbers!—­I’m beset!—­Gently, youngsters!—­(He goes over to the fire and stands warming himself) Brrrrr!  It’s cold in the forest to-night!—­Well, (He faces them genially) why am I come?—­Tell me that!

STEEN. (Exultantly) To take us to the Christmas Service?

HOLGER.  Uncle!  How didst thou know we were not going?

BERTEL.  I met a fox—­who said—­

HOLGER.  Oh-h!—­Thou hast seen mother and father!

BERTEL. (Draws the stool nearer the fire and sits, the children promptly drop on the floor beside him) By our Lady, yes!—­and walking so fast they had only time to throw me a word from the sides of their mouths.  “Go up,” cried Mother,—­“I wist my boys are deep in tears!”—­and I, not wishing to see you drown in so much water—­

HOLGER. (Patting his arm) Dear Uncle Bertel!

STEEN. (Rising on his knees) Come, let’s go quick!

BERTEL.  Patience, patience, young colt, plenty of time, mother said something else.

STEEN.  What?

BERTEL. (His eye on the shelf above the fire) That I should find some warm porridge for my pains.

HOLGER. (Springing to his feet) Why, of course, there is porridge! (He goes to the shelf) Nice and warm it is!  All ready for supper. (He hands the first bowl to BERTEL, STEEN capers nimbly across the intervening space and seats himself on the side of the hearth, facing BERTEL, his back to the audience)

STEEN.  Supper!  How could we forget supper?—­Give me a big bowlful, Holger.

HOLGER. (Handing STEEN his porridge) There isn’t a big bowlful here.

STEEN. (Taking the bowl and hugging it) Nice kind good supper, umh! (Begins to eat eagerly)

HOLGER. (Suddenly looking toward the door) Listen!

BERTEL.  To what?

HOLGER. (Awed, hesitant) Someone—­sobbing—­at the door! (He goes to it, the others watching him startled, he opens the door, finds nothing, closes it and comes back) Nothing there!

BERTEL.  The wind!—­Thy old tricks, Holger,—­always dreaming some strange thing.

HOLGER. (Recalled by BERTEL’S words to something else) Didst thou pass an old woman on the road—­near here?