Pelle the Conqueror, Vol. 2

ire in the grate; one could hear it crackling at Builder Rasmussen's and Swedish Anders', and the smell of broiled herrings filled th

now Pelle sniffed it afar off-Madame Rasmussen was tattling away to the huckster, and a voice screeched after her: "Madame Rasmussen! Your herring is burning!" Now she came rushing back, turning

n that he was held a prisoner by his wife and her kin. But Pelle had leaned his ear against the wall, and had heard a stammering old voice repeating the same pet names, so that it sounded like one of those love-songs that never come to an end; and when in the twilight he slipped out of his attic window and climbed on to the ridge of the roof, in order to take a look at the world, he had seen a tiny little

d across to the shelter of the wall, and hurried off; old Jorgen stood there g

w, shaving himself before the milk-can. "Just look how he puffs!

ther Jorgen's falsetto voice right down the street. "Has he been court

ll be swept away and be to no purpose. And everything of that sort-you know how I get thinking when ideas like that get the upper hand with me. I sat there and looked at the boy, and angry I felt with him, that I did; and right opposite him there was sitting a fine bit of womanhood, and he not looking at her. And with that I struck my hand on the table, and I says, 'Now,

boot out of that le

's built. She's thawing him already. Women,

o his work. "Yes, why, she'd breathe life into

keep himself neat and clean, and this failure weighed upon him and abashed him. And the holes in his stockings, which were now so big t

he colors of the sunset. They would be going to the harbor or the dunes by the sea; there would be dancing on the grass, and perhaps some would

for leaving off work. Madame Rasmussen was beating her child and reviling it in time with her blows. Then suddenly all was silent; only the crying of the child continued, like a feeble evening hymn. Old Jeppe was talking about Malaga-"when I ran ashore at Malaga

a Mormon a long time

es. The old

s of things in one's time," he

ed up to the zenith, while he shouted his senseless warnings: "The ne

verty out of the world and give us all a new life-that's the

illennium on the bra

said old Jorgen, behind them. "We shall

w," said Bjerregrav, shuddering. "It was abou

rs called him, but he could not spring over the wall to join them; they had begun to turn up their noses at him and regard him critically. He did not very well understand it, but he had become an outcast, a creature who no longer cared about wash

ore work for her. But she was poor herself; as for the rest, they only wanted to make use of him. There was no one in town who cared sufficiently for his welfare to take the trouble even to open his mouth to tell him the truth. This was a thought that made him feel quite weak about the knees, althoug

nsely relieved at once, but he did not hurry; he slipped behind the gate and counted it. One and a half kroner. He was on the point of regarding it as a gift from on high, as something which the Almighty had in His great goodness placed there,

nnocent of any tie-to his shirt. Shortly afterward he was standing outside a shop-window, contemplating some large neckties, which had just been put upon the market, and could be worn with any one of four faces outward; they filled the whole of the waistcoat, so that one did not

uld put the money under the cutting-out board in his master's room; the master would find it there, would gaze at it with a droll expression, and say: "What the devil is this

a needy wretch. But he did not doubt his own integrity; the master might be as sure of his money as if it had been in the bank. Yet now and again he forgot to gi

at the driving clouds overhead. He gave Pelle's shoulder a familiar squeeze.

nd his hand went to

," he said i

r shook him good-natu

. But just to

n all its shameful treachery; he felt as if he was on the point of being sick, so disturbed was he. Until this moment he had preserved through everything the feeling of his own worth, and now it was destroyed; there could not be any one wickeder than he in

everything would turn out for the best; he had given up believing in fairy-tales. Then he woul

resort to the dangerous expedient of stating; when the master gave him money to buy anything, that it was to be put down. And then one day it was all up with him. The others were ready to pull down the house about his ears; they threw his things out of the garre

th them, but they threw him down and dragged him back, one taking his head and one his legs. People came to the door and la

What, isn't he up yet?" said Jeppe, astounded, when he came in to the workshop. "No? Well, he'll soon get up

You're making yourself ridiculous," sneered Jeppe; "you'll never be able to manage peopl

fancies, more than it would hold. But now the reaction set in,

s. It was not his nature to do anything energetically, but he arranged that Pelle's