Part 3 (2/2)
”Whew, whew! but it's dreadful work,” said he.
The rectory harbor lay like a mirror. The island and trees and the bath-house stood on their heads in the clear, gla.s.sy water; and between the thick foliage of the trees there was a wide s.p.a.ce through which we could see the upper story of the rectory and the top of the flagstaff.
It is worth while to go traveling after all. I won't give another thought to that old rag of a five-crown bill.
CHAPTER IV
WHAT HAPPENED ONE ST. JOHN'S DAY
Well; what I am going to tell about now hasn't the least thing to do with St. John's Day itself,--you mustn't think it has; not the least connection with fresh young birch leaves and strong suns.h.i.+ne and Whitsuntide lilies and all that. Far from it. It is only that a certain St. John's Day stands out in my memory because of what happened to me then.
Yes, now you shall hear about it. First I must tell you of the weather.
It was just exactly what it should be on St. John's Day. The sky looked high and deep, with tiniest white clouds sprinkled over the whole circle of the heavens, and the suns.h.i.+ne was glorious on the hills and mountains and on the blue, blue sea.
Since it was Sunday as well as St. John's Day, I was all dressed up. To be sure my dress was an old one of Mother's made over, but the insertion was spandy new and there was a lot of it. I'd love to draw a picture of that dress for you, if you wanted to have one made like it.
Perhaps I had best begin at the very beginning, which was really Karsten's stamp collection. He does nothing but collect stamps, and talk and jabber about stamps the whole day long. He swaps and bargains, and has a whole heap of ”dubelkits,” as he calls them. These duplicates he keeps in a tiny little box. He means to be very orderly, you see.
To tell the truth, Karsten is perfectly stupid about swapping. The other boys can fool him like everything. He doesn't understand a bit how to do business, and so I always feel like taking charge of these stamp bargainings myself. If I see a boy I don't know very well, peeping around the corner or sneaking up the hill, I am right on hand, for boys that want to trade never come running; they act as if they were spying round and lying in wait for some one.
The instant Karsten sees them he comes out with his stamp alb.u.m. He stands there and expounds and explains about his stamps, with such a trustful look on his round pink face, while the other boys watch their chance to fool him; and before he knows it, some of his very best specimens are gone. That's the reason why I have taken hold.
As soon as I see a suspicious-looking boy on the horizon--that is to say on the hill--I go out and stand at the corner in all my dignity and won't budge, and I always put in my word you may be sure. Karsten doesn't like it, but anyway, he had me to thank for a rare Chili stamp.
But it was that very same rare stamp that brought about all my trouble on St. John's Day, because Nils Peter cheated that stupid donkey of a Karsten out of it the next time he saw him. And that was on St. John's Day, the very day after I had got it for him.
”I believe you would give them your nose, if they asked for it,” I said to Karsten. ”You'd stand perfectly still and let them cut your nose nicely off, if they wished.”
”You think you are smart, don't you?” said Karsten fiercely.
As Olaug came out just then (she is my little sister, you remember), I shouted to her:
”Run as fast as you can to Nils Peter and tell him Inger Johanne says for him to give up that Chili stamp instantly. I'll hold Karsten while you run.”
He would have run after Olaug to catch her before she should have time to ask Nils Peter for the stamp, for he thought that would be too embarra.s.sing.
Just as I got a good grip on Karsten, Olaug started. Oh, how she ran!--just like a race-horse, with her head high. Her hat fell off and hung by its elastic round her neck. She ran down the hill and up over Kranheia at top speed.
But you may believe I had a job of it standing there and holding fast to Karsten. He pushed and he struck and he scolded. My! how he did behave!
But I held on and watched Olaug to see how far she had got. I was high on the hill, you know, and could see a long way.
”O dear! Olaug will burst a blood-vessel running like that,” I thought.
My! now she is there--now away off there. Karsten squirmed and struggled; now Olaug is on the path up Kranheia,--she's slowing down a little.
Impossible for me to hold Karsten any longer. I had to let go. He was off like an arrow, his hair standing up straight and his feet pounding the ground like a young elephant's.
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