"When on mountain peaks you hie, "Mid green slopes to tarry, In your scrip pray no more tie, Than you well can carry.
Take no hindrances along To the crystal fountains; Drown them in a cheerful song, Send them down the mountains.
"Birds there greet you from the trees, Gossip seeks the valley; Purer, sweeter grows the breeze, As you upward sally.
Fill your lungs, and onward rove, Ever gayly singing, Childhood"s memories, heath and grove, Rosy-hued, are bringing.
"Pause the shady groves among, Hear yon mighty roaring, Solitude"s majestic song Upward far is soaring.
All the world"s distraction comes When there rolls a pebble; Each forgotten duty hums In the brooklet"s treble.
"Pray, while overhead, dear heart, Anxious mem"ries hover; Then go on: the better part You"ll above discover.
Who hath chosen Christ as guide, Daniel and Moses, Finds contentment far and wide, And in peace reposes."[1]
[Footnote 1: Auber Forestier"s translation.]
Ole had sat down and covered his face with his hands.
"Here I will talk with you," said the school-master, and seated himself by his side.
Down at Pladsen, Oyvind had just returned home from a somewhat long journey, the post-boy was still at the door, as the horse was resting.
Although Oyvind now had a good income as agriculturist of the district, he still lived in his little room down at Pladsen, and helped his parents every spare moment. Pladsen was cultivated from one end to the other, but it was so small that Oyvind called it "mother"s toy-farm,"
for it was she, in particular, who saw to the farming.
He had changed his clothes, his father had come in from the mill, white with meal, and had also dressed. They just stood talking about taking a short walk before supper, when the mother came in quite pale.
"Here are singular strangers coming up to the house; oh dear! look out!"
Both men turned to the window, and Oyvind was the first to exclaim:--
"It is the school-master, and--yes, I almost believe--why, certainly it is he!"
"Yes, it is old Ole Nordistuen," said Th.o.r.e, moving away from the window that he might not be seen; for the two were already near the door.
Just as Oyvind was leaving the window he caught the school-master"s eye, Baard smiled, and cast a glance back at old Ole, who was laboring along with his staff in small, short steps, one foot being constantly raised higher than the other. Outside the school-master was heard to say, "He has recently returned home, I suppose," and Ole to exclaim twice over, "Well, well!"
They remained a long time quiet in the pa.s.sage. The mother had crept up to the corner where the milk-shelf was; Oyvind had a.s.sumed his favorite position, that is, he leaned with his back against the large table, with his face toward the door; his father was sitting near him.
At length there came a knock at the door, and in stepped the school-master, who drew off his hat, afterward Ole, who pulled off his cap, and then turned to shut the door. It took him a long time to do so; he was evidently embarra.s.sed. Th.o.r.e rising, asked them to be seated; they sat down, side by side, on the bench in front of the window. Th.o.r.e took his seat again.
And the wooing proceeded as shall now be told.
The school-master: "We are having fine weather this autumn, after all."
Th.o.r.e: "It has been mending of late."
"It is likely to remain pleasant, now that the wind is over in that quarter."
"Are you through with your harvesting up yonder?"
"Not yet; Ole Nordistuen here, whom, perhaps, you know, would like very much to have help from you, Oyvind, if there is nothing else in the way."
Oyvind: "If help is desired, I shall do what I can."
"Well, there is no great hurry. The gard is not doing well, he thinks, and he believes what is wanting is the right kind of tillage and superintendence."
Oyvind: "I am so little at home."
The school-master looks at Ole. The latter feels that he must now rush into the fire; he clears his throat a couple of times, and begins hastily and shortly,--
"It was--it is--yes. What I meant was that you should be in a certain way established--that you should--yes--be the same as at home up yonder with us,--be there, when you were not away."
"Many thanks for the offer, but I should rather remain where I now live."
Ole looks at the school-master, who says,--
"Ole"s brain seems to be in a whirl to-day. The fact is he has been here once before, and the recollection of that makes his words get all confused."
Ole, quickly: "That is it, yes; I ran a madman"s race. I strove against the girl until the tree split. But let by-gones be by-gones; the wind, not the snow, beats down the grain; the rain-brook does not tear up large stones; snow does not lie long on the ground in May; it is not the thunder that kills people."
They all four laugh; the school-master says:
"Ole means that he does not want you to remember that time any longer; nor you, either, Th.o.r.e."
Ole looks at them, uncertain whether he dare begin again.
Then Th.o.r.e says,--
"The briar takes hold with many teeth, but causes no wound. In me there are certainly no thorns left."
Ole: "I did not know the boy then. Now I see that what he sows thrives; the harvest answers to the promise of the spring; there is money in his finger-tips, and I should like to get hold of him."
Oyvind looks at the father, he at the mother, she from them to the school-master, and then all three at the latter.
"Ole thinks that he has a large gard"--
Ole breaks in: "A large gard, but badly managed. I can do no more. I am old, and my legs refuse to run the errands of my head. But it will pay to take hold up yonder."
"The largest gard in the parish, and that by a great deal," interrupts the school-master.
"The largest gard in the parish; that is just the misfortune; shoes that are too large fall off; it is a fine thing to have a good gun, but one should be able to lift it." Then turning quickly towards Oyvind, "Would you be willing to lend a hand to it?"
"Do you mean for me to be gard overseer?"
"Precisely--yes; you should have the gard."
"I should _have_ the gard?"
"Just so--yes: then you could manage it."