Part 13 (1/2)
”The young lady with the water-jug appears to be suffering from a p.r.o.nounced gumboil, and is evidently utterly bored with her task of acting as barmaid to the camels; which latter, be it stated, are certainly but distantly related, if at all, to the honourable family of that name as represented in our Zoological Gardens.
”Indeed, we have it on good authority that a formal protest will shortly be lodged by the family in question against the unrightful adoption of a distinguished name by these monstrosities; the dromedaries, too, albeit less directly concerned, are anxious to disclaim any relations.h.i.+p.
”As for the setting, it must be admitted that the sky is undoubtedly as blue as anyone could wish, while cactus and cabbage grow luxuriantly about the hoofs of the so-called camels.
”Such unfettered and original humour is rare in Norwegian art; we are more accustomed to works of serious and mystic significance from that quarter. Presumably, the painting in question represents a new school, and we can only congratulate the country on the possession of so promising a young artist.”
William turned very pale as he read. Then, taking up the bundle of papers, he thrust the whole collection into the stove, and began nervously walking up and down.
An hour later he went downstairs to the office, and took his seat at the desk, opposite Miss Rantzau.
Just then Holm entered from the shop. He made no remarks, but put on his coat and went down to the waterside, where he found Bramsen sitting in a corner, looking troubled and unhappy.
”Why, what's the matter, Bramsen?”
”Oh, Lord, everything's going contrariwise, it seems.”
”Why, what's happened?”
”Well, there's Andrine gone and joined the Salvation Army, with a hat like _that_!” And he made a descriptive motion of his hands to his ears.
”The devil she has!”
”Ay, you may well say that. Downhill's better than up, as the man said when he fell over the cliff. But,” and he sighed, ”it never rains but it pours. Amande's gone and got laid up too.”
”Amande? Poor child! What's wrong with her?”
”Doctor says she's got tulips or something in her ears.”
”Polypi, I suppose you mean.”
”Well, something of that sort, anyway.”
”Sorry to hear that, Bramsen. And I'd just come down to tell you how splendid I was feeling myself; haven't been so happy for years. What do you think! William's started work at the office, and Marie's given up the singing business. Isn't that a surprise?”
”Ay, that it is. Never have thought it--as the old maid said when a young man kissed her on the stairs. I'm glad to hear it, though--they've been pretty average troublesome up to now.”
”I should say so. Well, let's hope Andrine will come to her senses as well, after a bit.”
”She must have got it pretty badly, I tell you, Knut. Why, only this morning if she didn't hand me over the savings-bank book, said she'd given up all thoughts of worldly mammon for good.” And Bramsen drew out the book from his pocket.
”What do you say to that, 130, 16s. 2d. She must have been a wonder to put by all that.”
”You're right there, Bramsen; she must be a born manager.”
”And now I'm going to try a steamboat. There's one I know of that's for sale, the _Patriot_, and I believe it's a bargain.”
”Don't you go doing anything foolish now, Bramsen; you're comfortably off as you are, and if you want more wages, why, you've only got to say so.”
”No, thanks, Knut. I'm earning well enough, and doing first-rate all round. But it's the freedom I want, to set out on my own again.”