Part 16 (1/2)

”If you'll be really good and not tell any one, I'll take you out for a drive,” said Ditte, dressing them in their best clothes. These were of many colors, their mother having made them from odd sc.r.a.ps of material, taken from the rag and bone man's cart.

”Oh--to the market?” shouted Kristian, beginning to jump again.

”No, to the forest,” said the little sister, stroking Ditte's cheeks beseechingly with her dirty little hands, which were blue with cold.

She had seen it from afar, and longed to go there.

”Yes, to the forest. But you must be good; it's a long way.”

”May we tell p.u.s.s.y?” Soster looked at Ditte with her big expressive eyes.

”Yes, and papa,” Kristian joined in with.

”Yes, but not any one else,” Ditte impressed upon them. ”Now remember that!”

The two little ones were put into the wheelbarrow, and Kristian held on to the side, and thus they set off. There was snow everywhere, the bushes were weighted down with it, and on the cart track the ice cracked under the wheel. It was all so jolly, the black crows, the magpies which screamed at them from the thorn-bushes, and the rime which suddenly dropped from the trees, right on to their heads.

It was three miles to the forest, but Ditte was used to much longer distances, and counted this as nothing. Kristian and Soster took turns in walking, Povl wanted to walk in the snow too, but was told to stay where he was and be good.

All went well until they had got halfway. Then the little ones began to tire of it, asking impatiently for the forest. They were cold, and Ditte had to stop every other moment to rub their fingers. The sun had melted the snow, making it dirty and heavy under foot, and she herself was getting tired. She tried to cheer them up, and trailed on a little further; but outside the bailiff's farm they all came to a hopeless standstill. A big fierce dog thought their hesitation suspicious and barred their way.

Per Nielsen came out on the porch to see why the dog barked so furiously; he at once saw what had happened, and took the children indoors. It was dinner-time, the wife was in the kitchen frying bacon and apples together. It smelt delicious. She thawed their frozen fingers in cold water; when they were all right again, all three stood round the fire. Ditte tried to get them away, but they were hungry.

”You shall have some too,” said the bailiff's wife, ”but sit down on that bench and be good; you're in my way.” They were each given a piece of cake, and then seated at the scoured table. They had never been out before, their eyes went greedily from one thing to another, as they were eating; on the walls hung copperware, which shone like the sun, and on the fire was a big bright copper kettle with a cover to the spout. It was like a huge hen sitting on eggs.

When they had finished their meal, Per Nielsen took them out and showed them the little pigs, lying like rolls of sausages round the mother. Then they went into the house again, and the wife gave them apples and cakes, but the best of all came last, when Per Nielsen harnessed the beautiful spring-cart to drive them home. The wheelbarrow was put in the back, so that too got a drive. The little ones laughed so much that it caught in their throats.

”Stupid children, coming out like that all alone,” said the bailiff's wife, as she stood wrapping them up. ”Fortunately 'twas more good luck than management that you came here.” And they all agreed that the return to the Crow's Nest was much grander than the set-off.

The trip had been glorious, but now there was work to be done. The mother had not taken picnics into account, and had put a large bundle of rags out on the thres.h.i.+ng-floor to be sorted, all the wool to be separated from the cotton. Kristian and Soster could give a helping hand if they liked; but they would not be serious today.

They were excited by the trip, and threw the rags at each other's heads. ”Now, you mustn't fight,” repeated Ditte every minute, but it did no good.

When darkness fell, they had only half finished. Ditte fetched the little lamp, in which they used half oil and half petroleum, and went on working; she cried despairingly when she found that they could not finish by the time her parents would return. At the sight of her tears the children became serious, and for a while the work went on briskly. But soon they were on the floor again chasing each other; and by accident Kristian kicked the lamp, which fell down and broke. This put an end to their wildness; the darkness fixed them to the spot; they dared not move. ”Ditte take me,” came wailingly from each corner.

Ditte opened the trap-door. ”Find your own way out!” said she harshly, fumbling about for Povl, who was sleeping on a bundle of rags; she was angry. ”Now you shall go to bed for punishment,” said she.

Kristian was sobbing all the time. ”Don't let mother whip me, don't let her!” he said over and over again. He put his arms round Ditte's neck as if seeking refuge there. And this put an end to her anger.

When she had lit the lantern she helped them to undress. ”Now if you'll be good and go straight to sleep, then Ditte will run to the store and buy a lamp.” She dared not leave the children with the light burning, and put it out before she left. As a rule they were afraid of being left alone in the dark; but under the present conditions it was no good making a fuss.

Ditte had a sixpence! Granny had given it to her once in their well-to-do-days, and she had kept it faithfully through all temptations up to now. It was to have bought her so many beautiful things, and now it had to go--to save little Kristian from a whipping. Slowly she kneeled down in front of the hole at the foot of the wall where it was hidden, and took the stone away; it really hurt her to do it. Then she got up and ran off to the store as quickly as she could--before she could repent.

On her return the little ones were asleep. She lit the lantern and began to peel off the withered leaves from the birches which were to be made into brooms; she was tired after the long eventful day, but could not idle. The strong fragrance from the birches was penetrating, and she fell asleep over her work. Thus her parents found her.

Sorine's sharp eyes soon saw that everything was not as it should be. ”Why've you got the lantern lit?” asked she, as she unb.u.t.toned her coat.

Ditte had to own up, ”but I've bought another!” she hastened to add.

”Oh--and where is it?” said the mother, looking round the room.