Pelle the Conqueror, Complete by Martin Anderson Nexo

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"No, I don't think it does," answered Pelle absently.

"Oh, well, I oughtn't to disturb you," said Lasse, and went to his
work. But in a very short time he was back again. "Those two names
have slipped my memory; I can't think where my head could have been
at the moment. But I know the greater prophets well enough, if you
like to hear me."

"Say them, then!" said Pelle, without raising his eyes from
his book.

"But you must stop reading while I say them," said Lasse, "or you
might go wrong." He did not approve of Pelle's wanting to treat it
as food for babes.

"Well, I don't suppose I could go wrong in the four greater!"
said Pelle, with an air of superiority, but nevertheless shutting
the book.

Lasse took the quid out from his lower lip with his forefinger,
and threw it on the ground so as to have his mouth clear, and then
hitched up his trousers and stood for a little while with closed
eyes while he moved his lips in inward repetition.

"Are they coming soon?" asked Pelle.

"I must first make sure that they're there!" answered Lasse,
in vexation at the interruption, and beginning to go over them
again. "Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel!" he said, dashing
them off hastily, so as not to lose any of them on the way.

"Shall we take Jacob's twelve sons, too?"

"No, not to-day. It might be too much for me all at once. At my age
you must go forward gently; I'm not as young as you, you know. But
you might go through the twelve lesser prophets with me."

Pelle went through them slowly, and Lasse repeated them one by
one. "What confounded names they did think of in those days!" he
exclaimed, quite out of breath. "You can hardly get your tongue
round them! But I shall manage them in time."

"What do you want to know them for, father?" asked Pelle suddenly.

"What do I want to know them for?" Lasse scratched one ear. "Why,
of course I--er--what a terrible stupid question! What do _you_
want to know them for? Learning's as good for the one to have as for
the other, and in my youth they wouldn't let me get at anything fine
like that. Do you want to keep it all to yourself?"

"No, for I wouldn't care a hang about all this prophet business
if I didn't _have_ to."

Lasse almost fainted with horror.

"Then you're the most wicked little cub I ever knew, and deserve
never to have been born into the world! Is that all the respect you
have for learning? You ought to be glad you were born in an age when
the poor man's child shares in it all as well as the rich. It wasn't
so in my time, or else--who knows--perhaps I shouldn't be going
about here cleaning stables if I'd learned something when I was
young. Take care you don't take pride in your own shame!"

Pelle half regretted his words now, and said, to clear himself:
"I'm in the top form now!"

"Yes, I know that well enough, but that's no reason for your putting
your hands in your trouser-pockets; while you're taking breath, the
others eat the porridge. I hope you've not forgotten anything in the
long Christmas holidays?"

"Oh, no, I'm sure I haven't!" said Pelle, with assurance.

Lasse did not doubt it either, but only made believe he did to
take the boy in. He knew nothing more splendid than to listen to
a rushing torrent of learning, but it was becoming more and more
difficult to get the laddie to contribute it. "How can you be sure?"
he went on. "Hadn't you better see? It would be such a comfort to
know that you hadn't forgotten anything--so much as you must have
in your head."

Pelle felt flattered and yielded. He stretched out his legs, closed
his eyes, and began to rock backward and forward. And the Ten
Commandments, the Patriarchs, the Judges, Joseph and his brethren,
the four major and the twelve minor prophets--the whole learning
of the world poured from his lips in one long breath. To Lasse it
seemed as if the universe itself were whizzing round the white-
bearded countenance of the Almighty. He had to bend his head and
cross himself in awe at the amount that the boy's little head could
contain.

"I wonder what it costs to be a student?" said Lasse, when he once
more felt earth beneath his feet.

"It must be expensive--a thousand krones, I suppose, at least,"
Pelle thought. Neither of them connected any definite idea with
the number; it merely meant the insurmountably great.

"I wonder if it would be so terrible dear," said Lasse. "I've been
thinking that when we have something of our own--I suppose it'll
come to something some day--you might go to Fris and learn the
trade of him fairly cheap, and have your meals at home. We ought
to be able to manage it that way."

Pelle did not answer; he felt no desire to be apprenticed to the
clerk. He had taken out his knife, and was cutting something on a
post of one of the stalls. It represented the big bull with his head
down to the ground, and its tongue hanging out of one corner of its
mouth. One hoof right forward at its mouth indicated that the animal
was pawing up the ground in anger. Lasse could not help stopping,
for now it was beginning to be like something. "That's meant to be
a cow, isn't it?" he said. He had been wondering every day, as it
gradually grew.

"It's Volmer that time he took you on his horns," said Pelle.

Lasse could see at once that it was that, now that he had been told.
"It's really very like," he said; "but he wasn't so angry as you've
made him! Well, well, you'd better get to work again; that there
fooling can't make a living for a man."

Lasse did not like this defect in the boy--making drawings with
chalk or his penknife all over; there would soon not be a beam or
a wall in the place that did not bear marks of one or the other. It
was useless nonsense, and the farmer would probably be angry if he
came into the stable and happened to see them. Lasse had every now
and then to throw cow-dung over the most conspicuous drawings, so
that they should not catch the eye of people for whom they were not
intended.

Up at the house, Kongstrup was just going in, leaning on his wife's
arm. He looked pale but by no means thin. "He's still rather lame,"
said Lasse, peeping out; "but it won't be long before we have him
down here, so you'd better not quite destroy the post."

Pelle went on cutting.

"If you don't leave off that silly nonsense, I'll throw dirt over
it!" said Lasse angrily.

"Then I'll draw you and Madam Olsen on the big gate!" answered Pelle
roguishly.

"You--you'd better! I should curse you before my face, and get the
parson to send you away--if not something worse!" Lasse was quite
upset, and went off down to the other end of the cow-stable and
began the afternoon's cleaning, knocking and pulling his implements
about. In his anger he loaded the wheelbarrow too full, and then
could neither go one way nor the other, as his feet slipped.

Pelle came down with the gentlest of faces. "Mayn't I wheel the
barrow out?" he said. "Your wooden shoes aren't so firm on the
stones."

Lasse growled some reply, and let him take it. For a very short time
he was cross, but it was no good; the boy could be irresistible when
he liked.

XXI

Pelle had been to confirmation-class, and was now sitting in the
servants' room eating his dinner--boiled herring and porridge. It
was Saturday, and the bailiff had driven into the town, so Erik was
sitting over the stove. He never said anything of his own accord,
but always sat and stared; and his eyes followed Pelle's movements
backward and forward between his mouth and his plate. He always kept
his eyebrows raised, as if everything were new to him; they had
almost grown into that position. In front of him stood a mug of beer
in a large pool, for he drank constantly and spilt some every time.

Fair Maria was washing up, and looked in every now and then to see
if Pelle were finished. When he licked his horn spoon clean and
threw it into the drawer, she came in with something on a plate:
they had had roast loin of pork for dinner upstairs.

"Here's a little taste for you," she said. "I expect you're still
hungry. What'll you give me for it?" She kept the plate in her hand,
and looked at him with a coaxing smile.

Pelle was still very hungry--ravenous; and he looked at the titbit
until his mouth watered. Then he dutifully put up his lips and
Maria kissed him. She glanced involuntarily at Erik, and a gleam of
something passed over his foolish face, like a faint reminiscence.

"There sits that great gaby making a mess!" she said, scolding as
she seized the beer-mug from him, held it under the edge of the
table, and with her hand swept the spilt beer into it.

Pelle set to work upon the pork without troubling about anything
else; but when she had gone out, he carefully spat down between his
legs, and went through a small cleansing operation with the sleeve
of his blouse.

When he was finished he went into the stable and cleaned out the
mangers, while Lasse curried the cows; it was all to look nice for
Sunday. While they worked, Pelle gave a full account of the day's
happenings, and repeated all that the parson had said. Lasse
listened attentively, with occasional little exclamations. "Think of
that!" "Well, I never!" "So David was a buck like that, and yet he
walked in the sight of God all the same! Well, God's long-suffering
is great--there's no mistake about that!"

There was a knock at the outer door. It was one of Kalle's children
with the message that grandmother would like to bid them good-bye
before she passed away.

"Then she can't have long to live," exclaimed Lasse. "It'll be
a great loss to them all, so happy as they've been together. But
there'll be a little more food for the others, of course."

They agreed to wait until they were quite finished, and then
steal away; for if they asked to be let off early, they would not
be likely to get leave for the funeral. "And that'll be a day's
feasting, with plenty of food and drink, if I know anything of
Brother Kalle!" said Lasse.

When they had finished their work and had their supper, they stole
out through the outside door into the field. Lasse had heaped up the
quilt, and put an old woolly cap just sticking out at the pillow-end;
in a hurry it could easily be mistaken for the hair of a sleeper, if
any one came to see. When they had got a little way, Lasse had to go
back once more to take precautions against fire.

It was snowing gently and silently, and the ground was frozen so
that they could go straight on over everything. Now that they knew
the way, it seemed no distance at all; and before they knew where
they were, the fields came to an end and the rock began.

There was a light in the cottage. Kalle was sitting up waiting for
them. "Grandmother hasn't long to live," he said, more seriously
than Lasse ever remembered to have heard him speak before.

Kalle opened the door to grandmother's room, and whispered something,
to which his wife answered softly out of the darkness.

"Oh, I'm awake," said the old woman, in a slow, monotonous voice.
"You can speak out, for I am awake."

Lasse and Pelle took off their leather shoes and went in in their
stockings. "Good evening, grandmother!" they both said solemnly,
"and the peace of God!" Lasse added.

"Well, here I am," said the old woman, feebly patting the quilt.
She had big woollen gloves on. "I took the liberty of sending for
you for I haven't long to live now. How are things going on in the
parish? Have there been any deaths?"

"No, not that I know of," answered Lasse. "But you look so well,
grandmother, so fat and rosy! We shall see you going about again
in two or three days."

"Oh, I dare say!" said the old woman, smiling indulgently. "I
suppose I look like a young bride after her first baby, eh? But
thank you for coming; it's as if you belonged to me. Well, now I've
been sent for, and I shall depart in peace. I've had a good time
in this world, and haven't anything to complain of. I had a good
husband and a good daughter, not forgetting Kalle there. And I got
my sight back, so that I saw the world once more."

"But you only saw it with one eye, like the birds, grandmother,"
said Kalle, trying to laugh.

"Yes, yes, but that was quite good enough; there was so much that
was new since I lost my sight. The wood had grown bigger, and a
whole family had grown up without my quite knowing it. Ah! yes, it
has been good to live in my old age and have them all about me--
Kalle and Maria and the children. And all of my own age have gone
before me; it's been nice to see what became of them all."

"How old are you now, grandmother?" asked Lasse.

"Kalle has looked it up in the church-book, and from that I ought
to be almost eighty; but that can scarcely be right."

"Yes, it's right enough," said Kalle, "for the parson looked it up
for me himself."

"Well, well, then the time's gone quickly, and I shouldn't at all
mind living a little longer, if it was God's will. But the grave's
giving warning; I notice it in my eyelids." The old woman had a
little difficulty in breathing, but kept on talking.

"You're talking far too much, mother!" said Maria.

"Yes, you ought to be resting and sleeping," said Lasse. "Hadn't we
better say good-bye to you?"

"No, I really must talk, for it'll be the last time I see you and
I shall have plenty of time to rest. My eyes are so light thank God,
and I don't feel the least bit sleepy."

"Grandmother hasn't slept for a whole week, I think," said Kalle
doubtfully.

"And why should I sleep away the last of the time I shall have here,
when I shall get plenty of time for that afterward? At night when
you others are asleep, I lie and listen to your breathing, and feel
glad that you're all so well. Or I look at the heather-broom, and
think of Anders and all the fun we had together."

She lay silent for a little while, getting her breath, while she
gazed at a withered bunch of heather hanging from a beam.

"He gathered that for me the first time we lay in the flowering
heather. He was so uncommonly fond of the heather, was Anders, and
every year when it flowered, he took me out of my bed and carried me
out there--every year until he was called away. I was always as new
for him as on the first day, and so happiness and joy took up their
abode in my heart."

"Now, mother, you ought to be quiet and not talk so much!" said
Maria, smoothing the old woman's pillow. But she would not be
silenced, though her thoughts shifted a little.

"Yes, my teeth were hard to get and hard to lose, and I brought my
children into the world with pain, and laid them in the grave with
sorrow, one after another. But except for that, I've never been ill,
and I've had a good husband. He had an eye for God's creations, and
we got up with the birds every summer morning, and went out onto the
heath and saw the sun rise out of the sea before we set about our
days work."

The old woman's slow voice died away, and it was as though a song
ceased to sound in their ears. They sat up and sighed. "Ah, yes,"
said Lasse, "the voice of memory is pleasant!"

"What about you, Lasse?" said the old woman suddenly, "I hear you're
looking about for a wife!"

"Am I?" exclaimed Lasse, in alarm. Pelle saw Kalle wink at Maria,
so they knew about it too.

"Aren't you soon coming to show us your sweetheart?" asked Kalle.
"I hear it's a good match."

"I don't in the least know what you're talking about," said Lasse,
quite confused.

"Well, well, you might do worse than that!" said the grandmother.
"She's good enough--from what I know. I hope you'll suit one another
like Anders and me. It was a happy time--the days when we went about
and each did our best, and the nights when the wind blew. It was
good then to be two to keep one another warm."

"You've been very happy in everything, grandmother," exclaimed
Lasse.

"Yes, and I'm departing in peace and can lie quiet in my grave. I've
not been treated unfairly in any way, and I've got nothing to haunt
any one for. If only Kalle takes care to have me carried out feet
first, I don't expect I shall trouble you."

"Just you come and visit us now and then if you like! We shan't be
afraid to welcome you, for we've been so happy together here," said
Kalle.

"No, you never know what your nature may be in the next life. You
must promise to have me carried out feet first! I don't want to
disturb your night's rest, so hard as you two have to work all day.
And, besides, you've had to put up with me long enough, and it'll
be nice for you to be by yourselves for once; and there'll be a bit
more for you to eat after this."

Maria began to cry.

"Now look here!" exclaimed Kalle testily. "I won't hear any more of
that nonsense, for none of us have had to go short because of you.
If you aren't good, I shall give a big party after you, for joy that
you're gone!"

"No, you won't!" said the old woman quite sharply. "I won't hear
of a three days' wake! Promise me now, Maria, that you won't go and
ruin yourselves to make a fuss over a poor old soul like me! But you
must ask the nearest neighbors in in the afternoon, with Lasse and
Pelle, of course. And if you ask Hans Henrik, perhaps he'd bring his
concertina with him, and you could have a dance in the barn."

Kalle scratched the back of his head. "Then, hang it, you must wait
until I've finished threshing, for I can't clear the floor now.
Couldn't we borrow Jens Kure's horse, and take a little drive over
the heath in the afternoon?"

"You might do that, too, but the children are to have a share in
whatever you settle to do. It'll be a comfort to think they'll have
a happy day out of it, for they don't have too many holidays; and
there's money for it, you know."

"Yes, would you believe it, Lasse--grandmother's got together fifty
krones that none of us knew anything about, to go toward her
funeral-party!"

"I've been putting by for it for twenty years now, for I'd like to
leave the world in a decent way, and without pulling the clothes off
my relations' backs. My grave-clothes are all ready, too, for I've
got my wedding chemise lying by. It's only been used once, and more
than that and my cap I don't want to have on."

"But that's so little," objected Maria. "Whatever will the neighbors
say if we don't dress you properly?"

"I don't care!" answered the old woman decidedly. "That's how Anders
liked me best, and it's all I've worn in bed these sixty years. So
there!" And she turned her head to the wall.

"You shall have it all just as you like, mother!" said Maria.

The old woman turned round again, and felt for her daughter's hand
on the quilt. "And you must make rather a soft pillow for my old
head, for it's become so difficult to find rest for it."

"We can take one of the babies' pillows and cover it with white,"
said Maria.

"Thank you! And then I think you should send to Jacob Kristian's for
the carpenter to-morrow--he's somewhere about, anyhow--and let him
measure me for the coffin; then I could have my say as to what it's
to be like. Kalle's so free with his money."

The old woman closed her eyes. She had tired herself out, after all.

"Now I think we'll creep out into the other room, and let her be
quiet," whispered Kalle, getting up; but at that she opened her
eyes.

"Are you going already?" she asked.

"We thought you were asleep, grandmother," said Lasse.

"No, I don't suppose I shall sleep any more in this life; my eyes are
so light, so light! Well, good-bye to you, Lasse and Pelle! May you
be very, very happy, as happy as I've been. Maria was the only one
death spared, but she's been a good daughter to me; and Kalle's been
as good and kind to me as if I'd been his sweetheart. I had a good
husband, too, who chopped firewood for me on Sundays, and got up
in the night to look after the babies when I was lying-in. We were
really well off--lead weights in the clock and plenty of firing;
and he promised me a trip to Copenhagen. I churned my first butter
in a bottle, for we had no churn to begin with; and I had to break
the bottle to get it out, and then he laughed, for he always laughed
when I did anything wrong. And how glad he was when each baby was
born! Many a morning did he wake me up and we went out to see the
sun come up out of the sea. 'Come and see, Anna,' he would say, 'the
heather's come into bloom in the night.' But it was only the sun
that shed its red over it! It was more than two miles to our nearest
neighbor, but he didn't care for anything as long as he had me. He
found his greatest pleasures in me, poor as I was; and the animals
were fond of me too. Everything went well with us on the whole."

She lay moving her head from side to side, and the tears were
running down her cheeks. She no longer had difficulty in breathing,
and one thing recalled another, and fell easily in one long tone
from her lips. She probably did not now know what she was saying,
but could not stop talking. She began at the beginning and repeated
the words, evenly and monotonously, like one who is carried away and
_must_ talk.

"Mother!" said Maria anxiously, putting her hands on her mother's
shaking head. "Recollect yourself, mother!"

The old woman stopped and looked at her wonderingly. "Ah, yes!" she
said. "Memories came upon me so fast! I almost think I could sleep
a little now."

Lasse rose and went up to the bed. "Good-bye, grandmother!" he said,
"and a pleasant journey, in case we shouldn't meet again!" Pelle
followed him and repeated the words. The old woman looked at them
inquiringly, but did not move. Then Lasse gently took her hand, and
then Pelle, and they stole out into the other room.

"Her flame's burning clear to the end!" said Lasse, when the door
was shut. Pelle noticed how freely their voices rang again.

"Yes, she'll be herself to the very end; there's been extra good
timber in her. The people about here don't like our not having the
doctor to her. What do you think? Shall we go to the expense?"

"I don't suppose there's anything more the matter with her than
that she can't live any longer," said Lasse thoughtfully.

"No, and she herself won't hear of it. If he could only keep life
in her a little while longer!"

"Yes, times are hard!" said Lasse, and went round to look at the
children. They were all asleep, and their room seemed heavy with
their breathing. "The flock's getting much smaller."

"Yes; one or two fly away from the nest pretty well every year,"
answered Kalle, "and now I suppose we shan't have any more. It's an
unfortunate figure we've stopped at--a horrid figure; but Maria's
become deaf in that ear, and I can't do anything alone." Kalle had
got back his roguish look.

"I'm sure we can do very well with what we've got," said Maria.
"When we take Anna's too, it makes fourteen."

"Oh, yes, count the others too, and you'll get off all the easier!"
said Kalle teasingly.

Lasse was looking at Anna's child, which lay side by side with
Kalle's thirteenth. "She looks healthier than her aunt," he said.
"You'd scarcely think they were the same age. She's just as red as
the other's pale."

"Yes, there is a difference," Kalle admitted, looking affectionately
at the children. "It must be that Anna's has come from young people,
while _our_ blood's beginning to get old. And then the ones
that come the wrong side of the blanket always thrive best--like
our Albert, for instance. He carries himself quite differently from
the others. Did you know, by-the-by, that he's to get a ship of his
own next spring?"

"No, surely not! Is he really going to be a captain?" said Lasse,
in the utmost astonishment.

"It's Kongstrup that's at the back of that--that's between ourselves,
of course!"

"Does the father of Anna's child still pay what he's bound to?"
asked Lasse.

"Yes, he's honest enough! We get five krones a month for having the
child, and that's a good help toward expenses."

Maria had placed a dram, bread and a saucer of dripping on the table,
and invited them to take their places at it.

"You're holding out a long time at Stone Farm," said Kalle, when they
were seated. "Are you going to stay there all your life?" he asked,
with a mischievous wink.

"It's not such a simple matter to strike out into the deep!" said
Lasse evasively.

"Oh, we shall soon be hearing news from you, shan't we?" asked
Maria.

Lasse did not answer; he was struggling with a crust.

"Oh, but do cut off the crust if it's too much for your teeth!"
said Maria. Every now and then she listened at her mother's door.
"She's dropped off, after all, poor old soul!" she said.

Kalle pretended to discover the bottle for the first time. "What!
Why, we've got gin on the table, too, and not one of us has smelt
it!" he exclaimed, and filled their glasses for the third time. Then
Maria corked the bottle. "Do you even grudge us our food?" he said,
making great eyes at her--what a rogue he was! And Maria stared at
him with eyes that were just as big, and said: "Yah! you want to
fight, do you?" It quite warmed Lasse's heart to see their
happiness.

"How's the farmer at Stone Farm? I suppose he's got over the worst
now, hasn't he?" said Kalle.

"Well, I think he's as much a man as he'll ever be. A thing like
that leaves its mark upon any one," answered Lasse. Maria was
smiling, and as soon as they looked at her, she looked away.