after their business, and to take advantage of the number of customers.
Above the din of heavy boots, wooden shoes, and rough voices, Villing might be constantly heard giving orders to the bewildered shopboy: "Ludwig, a quid of tobacco for Hans Olsen—the best kind, finest quality! and half a pound of sugar candy! full measure, do you understand? no pinching for Hans Olsen, I beg"—or the soft persuasive voice of the mistress: "I think I may guarantee that you will not get the equal of this calico anywhere, at double the price. But the principle we go on is, when we have done a good bit of business ourselves, we give our customers the benefit of it."
Down by the door a man exclaimed: "Here comes the Provst."
The conversation stopped at once, and all turned to the windows.
A moment after, the Provst rolled by in an open carriage. He was alone on the broad seat, leaning complacently back in the carriage.
By this time several hundred people had assembled outside the lonely church at Skibberup. Seldom—if ever—had the bass tones of the old bells pealed out over such a numerous gathering;
