“Hasn’tCousinClarafixedthingslovely？“littleHildawhispered，whenNilswentuptoherstallandaskedforlemonade。
Nilsleanedagainstthebooth，talkingtotheexcitedlittlegirlandwatchingthepeople。Thebarnfacedthewest，andthesun，pouringinatthebigdoors，filledthewholeinteriorwithagoldenlight，throughwhichfilteredfineparticlesofdustfromthehaymow，wherethechildrenwereromping。TherewasagreatchatteringfromthestallwhereJohannaVavrikaexhibitedtotheadmiringwomenherplattersheapedwithfriedchicken，herroastsofbeef，boiledtongues，andbakedhamswithclovesstuckinthecrispbrownfatandgarnishedwithtansyandparsley。Theolderwomen，havingassuredthemselvesthatthereweretwentykindsofcake，notcountingcookies，andthreedozenfatpies，repairedtothecornerbehindthepileofwatermelons，putontheirwhiteaprons，andfelltotheirknittingandfancywork。Theywereafinecompanyofoldwomen，andaDutchpainterwouldhavelovedtofindthemtheretogether，wherethesunmadebrightpatchesonthefloorandsentlong，quiveringshaftsofgoldthroughtheduskyshadeupamongtherafters。Therewerefat，rosyoldwomenwholookedhotintheirbestblackdresses；spare，alertoldwomenwithbrown，dark-veinedhands；andseveralofalmostheroicframe，notlessmassivethanoldMrs。Ericsonherself。Fewofthemworeglasses，andoldMrs。Svendsen，aDanishwoman，whowasquitebald，woretheonlycapamongthem。Mrs。Oleson，whohadtwelvebiggrandchildren，couldstillshowtwobraidsofyellowhairasthickasherownwrists。Amongallthesegrandmothersthereweremorebrownheadsthanwhite。Theyallhadapleased，prosperousair，asiftheyweremorethansatisfiedwiththemselvesandwithlife。
Nils，leaningagainstHilda’slemonadestand，watchedthemastheysatchatteringinfourlanguages，theirfingersneverlaggingbehindtheirtongues。
“Lookatthemoverthere，“hewhispered，detainingClaraasshepassedhim。“Aren’ttheytheOldGuard？I’vejustcountedthirtyhands。Iguessthey’vewrungmanyachicken’sneckandwarmedmanyaboy’sjacketforhimintheirtime。“
InrealityhefellintoamazementwhenhethoughtoftheHerculeanlaboursthosefifteenpairsofhandshadperformed:ofthecowstheyhadmilked，thebuttertheyhadmade，thegardenstheyhadplanted，thechildrenandgrandchildrentheyhadtended，thebroomstheyhadwornout，themountainsoffoodtheyhadcooked。Itmadehimdizzy。ClaraVavrikasmiledahard，enigmaticalsmileathimandwalkedrapidlyaway。Nils’eyesfollowedherwhitefigureasshewenttowardthehouse。Hewatchedherwalkingaloneinthesunlight，lookedatherslender，defiantshouldersandherlittlehard-setheadwithitscoilsofblue-blackhair。“No，“hereflected；“she’dneverbelikethem，notifshelivedhereahundredyears。She’donlygrowmorebitter。Youcan’ttameawildthing；youcanonlychainit。