Part 140 (1/2)

”There's no box on the ears in the air, my boy,” said Pelle, laughing.

”The game only begins to-day!”

La.s.se Frederik continued to hold his arm in the same position, and lay gazing indifferently out into the front room, as if he had no idea to what his father was referring; but his face was scarlet.

”Don't you even say good-morning to your father?” said Ellen, whereupon he sullenly extended his hand and then turned his face to the wall.

He was vexed at his behavior of the day before, and perhaps expected a blowing-up. On a nail above his head hung his blouse and cap.

”Is La.s.se Frederik a milk-boy?” asked Pelle.

”Yes,” said Ellen, ”and he's very good at it. The drivers praise him.”

”Isn't he going to get up then, and go? I've met several milk-carts.”

”No, for we're on strike just now,” murmured the boy without turning round.

Pelle became quite interested. ”What fellows you are! So you're on strike, are you? What's it for--is it wages?”

The boy had to explain, and gradually turned his face round, but did not look at his father.

Ellen stood in the doorway and listened to them smilingly. She looked frail. ”La.s.se Frederik's the leader,” she said gently.

”And he's lying here instead of being out on the watch for blacklegs?”

exclaimed Pelle quite irritably. ”You're a nice leader!”

”Do you suppose any boy would be so mean as to be a blackleg?” said La.s.se Frederik. ”No, indeed! But people fetch their own milk from the carts.”

”Then you must get the drivers to join you.”

”No, we don't belong to a real union, so they won't support us.”

”Well then, make a union! Get up, boy, and don't lie there snoring when there's anything of this sort on! Do you imagine that anything in this world is to be got by sleeping?”

The boy did not move. He did not seem to think there was any reason for taking his father very seriously; but he met a reproachful look from Ellen, and he was out of bed and dressed in a trice. While they sat in the front room, drinking their coffee, Pelle gave him a few hints as to how he should proceed in the matter. He was greatly interested, and went thoroughly into the subject; it seemed to him as though it were only yesterday that he had occupied himself with the people. How many pleasant memories of the fight crowded into his mind! And now every child knew that the meanest thing on earth was to become a blackleg! How he had fought to make even intelligent fellow-workmen understand this!

It was quite comical to think that the strike--which filled the workmen with horror the first time he had employed it--was now a thing that children made use of. Time pa.s.sed with a fleet foot out here in the day; and if you wanted to keep pace you must look sharp!

When the boy had gone, Ellen came to Pelle and stroked his hair.

”Welcome home!” she said softly, and kissed his furrowed brow.

He pressed her hand. ”Thank you for having a home for me,” he answered, looking into her eyes; ”for if you hadn't, I think I should have gone to the dogs.”

”The boy has had his share in that, you know! He's worked well, or it might have gone badly with me many a time. You mustn't be angry with him, Pelle, even if he is a little sullen to you. You must remember how much he's gone through with the other boys. Sometimes he's come home quite disheartened.”

”Because of me?” asked Pelle in a low voice.

”Yes, for he couldn't bear them to say anything about you. At one time he was always fighting, but now I think he's taught them to leave him alone; for he never gave in. But it may have left its marks on him.”