Ovind: A Story Of Country Life In Norway Part 2

"Is it always like this?" he whispered to Marit.

"Yes, it's always like this," she said.

By and bye they had to go up to the schoolmaster to read, then a little boy was set to hear them, and they soon found a chance to slip back to their corner again.

"I've got a little goat now, too," said Marit.

"Have you?"

"Yes, but it's not so nice as yours."

"Why haven't you come up oftener to the ridge?"

"Grandfather was afraid lest I should fall down."

"But it isn't so high."

"Grandfather won't let me come though."

"My mother knows so many songs," said Ovind.

"Oh! so does grandfather."

"Yes, but not the same as mother sings."

"Grandfather knows a dancing song!--Will you hear it?"

"Oh yes!"

"Then come further away so that the schoolmaster shan't see us."

He came quite close to her, and she said the song over and over again, till he knew it by heart, and this was the first that he learnt at the school,--

"Dance! cried the fiddle In tuning the strings, Then suddenly upsprings A youth and cries 'Ho!'

'Hey!' said Erasmus, Embracing fair Randi, 'Come hasten to give me The kiss that you owe!'

'Nay,' answered Randi, But slipped away shyly, And nodding, said slyly, 'From that you may know!'"

"Up youngsters," cried the schoolmaster, "this is the first day at school, and you may go early, but now we must have prayers and singing." Up rushed the children, laughing and talking and scampering over the floor. "Silence! you little good-for-nothing chatter-boxes,--be good and walk nicely over the floor my children!"

said the schoolmaster, whereupon they quietly took their places, the schoolmaster went in front and said a short prayer, and then they sang.

He led in a deep ba.s.s voice, and all the children stood with folded hands. Ovind and Marit stood near the door--they also folded their hands, but they could not sing. So ended the first day at school.

CHAP. III.

THE SCHOOLMASTER'S STORY.

Ovind grew, and became a promising lad. At school he was always among the first, and at home he was industrious, for at home he loved his mother and at school the schoolmaster. He did not see much of his father, who was either away fishing or else attending to the mill.

That which at this time had the most influence over his mind, was the history of the schoolmaster, which his mother told him one night as they sat over the log fire. It entered his books, it peeped out of every word the schoolmaster said, and crept stealthily round the school-room when all was still. It made him obedient and respectful, and, as it were, enlarged the powers of his mind. The story ran thus:--The schoolmaster's name was Baard, and he had one only brother called Anders. They were much attached to each other, they enlisted together, served in the same company, were together in the war, and were both made corporals; and, when after the war they returned home, they were looked upon by everybody as two brave fellows.

Soon after this their father died, leaving a good deal of property not easy to divide. To overcome the difficulty, they resolved to have an auction sale, when they could share the profits, and each could buy those things he liked best. Now the father had left a large gold watch, known through all the country side, for it was the only gold watch the people there had ever seen. When this watch was put up at the sale there were many bids, until both the brothers began, and then others ceased. Now Baard expected that Anders would let him have the watch, and Anders thought the same of Baard. When the watch had come up to twenty dollars, Baard thought it wasn't nice of his younger brother, and he bid again until it was near thirty, but Anders would not give in. Then Baard said forty dollars at one bid, and looked no longer at his brother. There was a deep silence in the room, broken only by the auctioneer quietly naming the last bid. Anders thought that if Baard could afford to pay forty dollars, he could do it equally as well, and if Baard would not let him have the watch, he should pay dearly for it, so he bid higher. Then Baard laughed--"A hundred dollars and my brotherhood into the bargain," he said, and went out. A moment after, as he saddled his horse, one came out and said to him, "The watch is yours; Anders gave in." As he heard this, a deep pang shot through him,--he thought of his brother and not of the watch. The horse was saddled, but he seemed uncertain whether to ride or not. Just then many of the people came out, and Anders among them, who, seeing Baard with his horse ready saddled and little dreaming of his real thoughts, called out aloud,--

"Thank you, Baard, you shall never see the day when I come in your way again!"

"Nor you the day when I set foot on this farm," retorted Baard, pale as death, as he swung himself into the saddle.

Neither of them ever trod again upon the threshold of their father's house.

Soon after this Anders got married, but Baard was not invited to the wedding.

During the same year, Anders' only cow was found dead close to his house, and no one could tell how it happened. One misfortune followed another, and everything seemed to go wrong; at last, in the middle of the Winter, his hay loft and everything in it was burnt to the ground, and it could not be found out how the fire originated. "Some one who wishes me evil has done this," said Anders, and he wept. He was now reduced to poverty, and all his energy for work was gone.

The next evening Baard appeared at his brother's house; Anders was lying down, but sprang up at the unexpected sight.

"What do you want here?" said he, then stood fixedly gazing at him.

Baard waited a little before he answered, "I came to help you, Anders; you are in trouble."

"Things have gone with me as you would have them, Baard! Go, or I cannot restrain myself."

"You are mistaken, Anders, I regret ..."

"Go Baard, or we are both victims!"

Baard retreated a few steps, then in a trembling voice he said,--"If you would like the watch you shall have it."

"Go, Baard!" screeched the other, and Baard went.

Now with Baard things had been thus:--Finding his brother fared so ill, his heart was softened, but pride held him back. He felt a desire to go to church, and there he made good resolutions, but failed in carrying them out. He often went so near that he could see the house, but either some one came out at the door, or there was a stranger, or Anders stood and chopped wood,--there was always something in the way. But one Sunday in the Winter, he again went to church, and Anders was there too. Baard saw him, he looked very pale and thin, and he wore the same clothes he had done when they lived together, but now they were old and worn. During the sermon he looked up at the pastor, and Baard thought he seemed good and kind, and he remembered their childhood's years and what a good lad he had been.

Baard himself went up to the altar that day, and he made the solemn promise before G.o.d, that he would be reconciled to his brother cost him what it might.

This resolution took hold of him in the same moment as he drank of the wine, and when he rose he meant to go and sit by his brother, but some one was in the way, and Anders did not look up. After service there were also hindering things,--there were so many people,--his wife walked beside him, and Baard did not know her; he thought it would be best to go home to him alone, and talk openly with him.

When evening came, he went. As he reached the room door, he listened, and heard his own name mentioned; it was by the wife.

"He came up to the altar to-day," said she, "he was certainly thinking of you."

"No, he never thought of me," said Anders, "I know him; he thought only of himself."

Then there was a long pause; Baard felt the sweat upon his brow, although the night was cold. He heard the wife busy with the kettle; the fire blazed and crackled, a little baby cried now and then, and Anders rocked the cradle.