on Isak again, "wasn't it ten you counted on the shelf this morning?"
"Ay," said Eleseus.
"Well, there's but nine there now."
Eleseus counted again, and thought for a moment inside his little head; then he said: "Yes, but then Os-Anders had one to take away; that makes ten."
There was silence for quite a while after that. Then little Sivert
must try to count as well, and says after his brother: "That makes
ten."
Silence again. At last Oline felt she must say something.
"Ay, I did give him a tiny one, that's true. I didn't think that could do any harm. But they children, they're no sooner able to talk than they show what's in them. And who they take after's more than I can think or guess. For 'tis not your way, Isak, that I do know."
The hint was too plain to pass unchecked. "The children are well enough," said Isak shortly. "But I'd like to know what good Os-Anders has ever done to me and mine."
"What good?"
"Ay, that's what I said."
"What good Os-Anders ...?"
"Ay, since I'm to give him cheeses in return."
Oline has had time to think, and has her answer ready now.
"Well, now, I wouldn't have thought it of you, Isak, that I wouldn't. Was it me, pray, that first began with Os-Anders? I wish I may never move alive from this spot if I ever so much as spoke his name."
Brilliant success for Oline. Isak has to give in, as he has done many
a time before.
But Oline had more to say. "And if you mean I'm to go here clean barefoot, with the winter coming on and all, and never own the like of a pair of shoes, why, you'll please to say so. I said a word of it three and four weeks gone, that I needed shoes, but never sign of a shoe to this day, and here I am."
Said Isak: "What's wrong with your pattens, then, that you can't use
them?"
"What's wrong with them?" repeats Oline, all unprepared.
"Ay, that's what I'd like to know."
"With my pattens?"
"Ay."
"Well ... and me carding and spinning, and tending cattle and sheep and all, looking after children here--have you nothing to say to that? I'd like to know; that wife of yours that's in prison for her deeds, did you let her go barefoot in the snow?"
"She wore her pattens," said Isak. "And for going to church and visiting and the like, why, rough hide was good enough for her."
"Ay, and all the finer for it, no doubt."
"Ay, that she was. And when she did wear her hide shoes in summer, she did but stuff a wisp of grass in them, and never no more. But you--you must wear stockings in your shoes all the year round."
Said Oline: "As for that, I'll wear out my pattens in time, no doubt. I'd no thought there was any such haste to wear out good pattens all at once." She spake softly and gently, but with half-closed eyes, the same sly Oline as ever. "And as for Inger," said she, "the changeling, as we called her, she went about with children of mine and learned both this and that, for years she did. And this is what we get for it. Because I've a daughter that lives in Bergen and wears a hat, I suppose that's what Inger must be gone away south for; gone to Trondhjem to buy a hat, he he!"
Isak got up to leave the room. But Oline had opened her heart now, unlocked the store of blackness within; ay, she gave out rays of darkness, did Oline. Thank Heaven, none of her children had their faces slit like a fire-breathing dragon, so to speak; but they were none the worse for that, maybe. No, 'twasn't every one was so quick and handy at getting rid of the young they bore--strangling them in a twinkling....
"Mind what you're saying," shouted Isak. And to make his meaning perfectly clear, he added: "You cursed old hag!"
But Oline was not going to mind what she was saying; not in the least, he he! She turned up her eyes to heaven and hinted that a hare-lip might be this or that, but some folk seemed to carry it too far, he he!
Isak may well have been glad to get safely out of the house at last. And what could he do but get Oline the shoes? A tiller of earth in the wilds; no longer even
"Ay," said Eleseus.
"Well, there's but nine there now."
Eleseus counted again, and thought for a moment inside his little head; then he said: "Yes, but then Os-Anders had one to take away; that makes ten."
There was silence for quite a while after that. Then little Sivert
must try to count as well, and says after his brother: "That makes
ten."
Silence again. At last Oline felt she must say something.
"Ay, I did give him a tiny one, that's true. I didn't think that could do any harm. But they children, they're no sooner able to talk than they show what's in them. And who they take after's more than I can think or guess. For 'tis not your way, Isak, that I do know."
The hint was too plain to pass unchecked. "The children are well enough," said Isak shortly. "But I'd like to know what good Os-Anders has ever done to me and mine."
"What good?"
"Ay, that's what I said."
"What good Os-Anders ...?"
"Ay, since I'm to give him cheeses in return."
Oline has had time to think, and has her answer ready now.
"Well, now, I wouldn't have thought it of you, Isak, that I wouldn't. Was it me, pray, that first began with Os-Anders? I wish I may never move alive from this spot if I ever so much as spoke his name."
Brilliant success for Oline. Isak has to give in, as he has done many
a time before.
But Oline had more to say. "And if you mean I'm to go here clean barefoot, with the winter coming on and all, and never own the like of a pair of shoes, why, you'll please to say so. I said a word of it three and four weeks gone, that I needed shoes, but never sign of a shoe to this day, and here I am."
Said Isak: "What's wrong with your pattens, then, that you can't use
them?"
"What's wrong with them?" repeats Oline, all unprepared.
"Ay, that's what I'd like to know."
"With my pattens?"
"Ay."
"Well ... and me carding and spinning, and tending cattle and sheep and all, looking after children here--have you nothing to say to that? I'd like to know; that wife of yours that's in prison for her deeds, did you let her go barefoot in the snow?"
"She wore her pattens," said Isak. "And for going to church and visiting and the like, why, rough hide was good enough for her."
"Ay, and all the finer for it, no doubt."
"Ay, that she was. And when she did wear her hide shoes in summer, she did but stuff a wisp of grass in them, and never no more. But you--you must wear stockings in your shoes all the year round."
Said Oline: "As for that, I'll wear out my pattens in time, no doubt. I'd no thought there was any such haste to wear out good pattens all at once." She spake softly and gently, but with half-closed eyes, the same sly Oline as ever. "And as for Inger," said she, "the changeling, as we called her, she went about with children of mine and learned both this and that, for years she did. And this is what we get for it. Because I've a daughter that lives in Bergen and wears a hat, I suppose that's what Inger must be gone away south for; gone to Trondhjem to buy a hat, he he!"
Isak got up to leave the room. But Oline had opened her heart now, unlocked the store of blackness within; ay, she gave out rays of darkness, did Oline. Thank Heaven, none of her children had their faces slit like a fire-breathing dragon, so to speak; but they were none the worse for that, maybe. No, 'twasn't every one was so quick and handy at getting rid of the young they bore--strangling them in a twinkling....
"Mind what you're saying," shouted Isak. And to make his meaning perfectly clear, he added: "You cursed old hag!"
But Oline was not going to mind what she was saying; not in the least, he he! She turned up her eyes to heaven and hinted that a hare-lip might be this or that, but some folk seemed to carry it too far, he he!
Isak may well have been glad to get safely out of the house at last. And what could he do but get Oline the shoes? A tiller of earth in the wilds; no longer even
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