Part 12 (2/2)
”Yes, you see, this is the way it is when I am happy--truly happy, you see; and as soon as it was settled between us two, it seemed as if there burst open a lock within me--wide open, you see.”
She laughed. Presently she said,--
”I know almost by heart all the letters you sent me.”
”And I yours! But you always wrote such short ones.”
”Because you always wanted them to be so long.”
”And when I desired that we should write more about something, then you changed the subject.”
”'I show to the best advantage when you see my tail,'[1] said the hulder.”
[Footnote 1: The hulder in the Norse folk-lore appears like a beautiful woman, and usually wears a blue petticoat and a white sword; but she unfortunately has a long tail, like a cow's, which she anxiously strives to conceal when she is among people. She is fond of cattle, particularly brindled, of which she possesses a beautiful and thriving stock. They are without horns. She was once at a merry-making, where every one was desirous of dancing with the handsome, strange damsel; but in the midst of the mirth a young man, who had just begun a dance with her, happened to cast his eye on her tail. Immediately guessing whom he had gotten for a partner, he was not a little terrified; but, collecting himself, and unwilling to betray her, he merely said to her when the dance was over: ”Fair maid, you will lose your garter.” She instantly vanished, but afterwards rewarded the silent and considerate youth with beautiful presents and a good breed of cattle. FAYE'S _Traditions_.--NOTE BY TRANSLATOR.]
”Ah! that is so. You have never told me how you got rid of Jon Hatlen.”
”I laughed.”
”How?”
”Laughed. Do not you know what it is to laugh?”
”Yes; I can laugh.”
”Let me see!”
”Whoever beard of such a thing! Surely, I must have something to laugh at.”
”I do not need that when I am happy.”
”Are you happy now, Marit?”
”Pray, am I laughing now?”
”Yes; you are, indeed.”
He took both her hands in his and clapped them together over and over again, gazing into her face. Here the dog began to growl, then his hair bristled and he fell to barking at something below, growing more and more savage, and finally quite furious. Marit sprang back in alarm; but Oyvind went forward and looked down. It was his father the dog was barking at. He was standing at the foot of the cliff with both hands in his pockets, gazing at the dog.
”Are you there, you two? What mad dog is that you have up there?”
”It is the dog from the Heidegards,” answered Oyvind, somewhat embarra.s.sed.
”How the deuce did it get up there?”
Now the mother had put her head out of the kitchen door, for she had heard the dreadful noise, and at once knew what it meant; and laughing, she said,--
”That dog is roaming about there every day, so there is nothing remarkable in it.”
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