"Of course, all this is a mere nothing for fellows like you,
who bring your harvest home in railway trains," he said. "But, you see,
I have my home here." And he waved his hand towards the house and the
farmstead round.
Later they drove over in the light trap to look at the workshop, and
here he made no excuses for its being small. He showed off the
little foundry as if it had been a world-famous seat of industry, and
maintained his serious air while his companions glanced sideways at him,
trying hard not to smile.
The workmen touched their caps respectfully, and sent curious glances at
the strangers.
"Quite a treat to see things on the Norwegian scale again," Ferdinand
Holm couldn't resist saying at last.
"Yes, isn't it charming!" cried Peer, putting on an air of ingenuous
delight. "This is just the size a foundry should be, if its owner is to
have a good time and possess his soul in peace."
Ferdinand Holm and Brock exchanged glances. But next moment Peer led
them through into a side-room, with tools and machinery evidently having
no connection with the rest.
"Now look out," said Klaus. "This is the holy of holies, you'll see.
He's hard at it working out some new devilry here, or I'm a Dutchman."
Peer drew aside a couple of tarpaulins, and showed them a mowing machine
of the ordinary type, and beside it another, the model of a new type he
had himself devised.
"It's not quite finished yet," he said. "But I've solved the main
problem.
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