Growth of the Soil Part 22
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Man and wife gossiping of this and that. The sun is up till late in the evening, and the weather warm.
"Oline," says Inger--"where does she sleep?"
"In the little room."
"Ho! And the boys?"
"They've their own bed in the big room. There's two beds there, just as when you went away."
"Looking at you now," said Inger, "I can see you're just as you were before. And those shoulders of yours, they've carried some burdens up along this way, but they've not grown the weaker by it, seems."
"H'm. Maybe. What I was going to say: How it was like with you all the years there? Bearable like?" Oh, Isak was soft at heart now; he asked her that, and wondered in his mind.
And Inger said: "Ay, 'twas nothing to complain of."
They talked more feelingly together, and Isak asked if she wasn't tired of walking, and would get up in the cart a bit of way. "No, thanks all the same," said she. "But I don't know what's the matter with me today; after being ill on the boat, I feel hungry all the time."
"Why, did you want something, then?"
"Yes, if you don't mind stopping so long."
Oh, that Inger, maybe 'twas not for herself at all, but for Isak's sake. She would have him eat again; he had spoiled his last meal chewing twigs of heather.
And the evening was light and warm, and they had but a few miles more to go; they sat down to eat again.
Inger took a parcel from her box, and said:
"I've a few things I brought along for the boys. Let's go over there in the bushes, it's warmer there."
They went across to the bushes, and she showed him the things; neat braces with buckles for the boys to wear, copy-books with copies at the top of the page, a pencil for each, a pocket-knife for each. And there was an excellent book for herself, she had. "Look, with my name in and all. A prayer-book." It was a present from the Governor, by way of remembrance.
Isak admired each thing in silence. She took out a bundle of little collars--Leopoldine's, they were. And gave Isak a black neckerchief for himself, s.h.i.+ny as silk.
"Is that for me?" said he.
"Yes, it's for you."
He took it carefully in his hands, and stroked it.
"Do you think it's nice?"
"Nice--why I could go round the world in such."
But Isak's fingers were rough; they stuck in the curious silky stuff.
Now Inger had no more things to show. But when she had packed them all up again, she sat there still; and the way she sat, he could see her legs, could see her red-bordered stockings.
"H'm," said he. "Those'll be town-made things, I doubt?"
"'Tis wool was bought in the town, but I knitted them myself. They're ever so long--right up above the knee--look...."
A little while after she heard herself whispering: "Oh, you ... you're just the same--the same as ever!"
And after that halt they drove on again, and Inger sat up, holding the reins. "I've brought a paper of coffee too," she said. "But you can't have any this evening, for it's not roasted yet."
"'Tis more than's needed this evening and all," said he.
An hour later the sun goes down, and it grows colder. Inger gets down to walk. Together they tuck the rug closer about Leopoldine, and smile to see how soundly she can sleep. Man and wife talk together again on their way. A pleasure it is to hear Inger's voice; none could speak clearer than Inger now.
"Wasn't it four cows we had?" she asks.
"'Tis more than that," says he proudly. "We've eight."
"Eight cows!"
"That is to say, counting the bull."
"Have you sold any b.u.t.ter?"
"Ay, and eggs."
"What, have we chickens now?"
"Ay, of course we have. And a pig."
Inger is so astonished at all this that she forgets herself altogether, and stops for a moment--"_Ptro_!" And Isak is proud and keeps on, trying to overwhelm her completely.
"That Geissler," he says, "you remember him? He came up a little while back."
"Oh?"
"I've sold him a copper mine."
"Ho! What's that--a copper mine?"
"Copper, yes. Up in the hills, all along the north side of the water."
"You--you don't mean he paid you money for it?"
"Ay, that he did. Geissler he wouldn't buy things and not pay for them."
"What did you get, then?"
"H'm. Well, you might not believe it--but it was two hundred _Daler_."
"You got two hundred _Daler_!" shouts Inger, stopping again with a "_Ptro_!"
Growth of the Soil Part 22
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Growth of the Soil Part 22 summary
You're reading Growth of the Soil Part 22. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Knut Hamsun already has 717 views.
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- Related chapter:
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