"And the youth got no further.
"Then he took service at her father"s house, and hung round her the whole day long. Once he came very near speaking to her; he had already opened his mouth, when there flew into it a large fly. "If only no one comes and takes her from me," thought the youth. But there came no one to take her from him, because she was so small.
"Some one did come along, though, at last, for he was small too. The youth well knew what he was after, and when he and the girl went up-stairs together, the youth made his way to the key-hole. Now he who was within offered himself. "Alas, dunce that I am, not to have made more haste!" thought the youth. He who was inside kissed the girl right on the lips. "That must have tasted good," thought the youth. But he who was inside had drawn the girl down on his knee. "What a world we live in!" said the youth, and wept. This the girl heard, and went to the door.
""What do you want of me, you ugly boy, that you never give me any peace?"
""I?--I only wanted to ask you if I might be your groomsman."
""No; my brothers are to be the groomsmen," answered the girl,--and slammed the door in his face.
"And the youth got no further."
The girls laughed a great deal at this story, and sent a shower of husks flying round after it.
G.o.dfather now wanted Eli Boen to tell something.
What should it be?
Why, she might tell what she had told over on the hill, when he was with them, the time she gave him the new garters. It was a good while before Eli was ready, for she laughed so hard, but at last she told:--
"A girl and a boy were walking together on the same road. "Why, see the thrush that is following us," said the girl. "It is I whom it is following," said the boy. "It is just as likely to be me," answered the girl. "That we can soon see," remarked the boy; "now you take the lower road, and I will take the upper one, and we will meet at the top of the hill." They did so. "Was it not following me?" asked the boy, when they met. "No, it was following me," answered the girl. "Then there must be two." They walked together again a little way, but then there was only one thrush; the boy thought it flew on his side; but the girl thought it flew on hers. "The deuce! I"ll not bother my head any more about that thrush," said the boy. "Nor I either," replied the girl.
"But no sooner had they said this than the thrush was gone. "It was on _your_ side," said the boy. "No, I thank you; I saw plainly it was on _yours_. But there! There it comes again!" called out the girl. "Yes, it is on _my_ side!" cried the boy. But now the girl became angry. "May all the plagues take me if I walk with you any longer!" and she went her own way. Then the thrush left the boy, and the way became so tedious that he began to call out. She answered. "Is the thrush with you?" shouted the boy. "No, it is with you." "Oh, dear! You must come here again, then perhaps it will come too." And the girl came again; they took each other by the hand and walked together. "Kvit, kvit, kvit, kvit!" was heard on the girl"s side. "Kvit, kvit, kvit, kvit!" was heard on the boy"s side.
"Kvit, kvit, kvit, kvit, kvit, kvit, kvit, kvit!" was heard on both sides, and when they came to look, there were a thousand million thrushes round about them. "Why, how strange!" said the girl, and looked up at the boy. "Bless you!" said the boy, and caressed the girl."
This story all the girls thought fine.
Then G.o.dfather suggested that they should tell what they had dreamed the night before, and he would decide who had had the finest dream.
What! tell their dreams? No, indeed! And there was no end to the laughing and whispering. But then one after another began to remark that she had had such a fine dream last night; others, again, that, fine as the ones they had had, it could not by any means be. And finally, they all were seized with a desire to tell their dreams. But it must not be out loud, it must only be to _one_, and that must by no means be G.o.dfather. Arne was sitting quietly on the hill, and so he was the one to whom they dared tell their dreams.
Arne took a seat beneath a hazel, and then she who had told the first story came to him. She thought a long time, and then told as follows:--
"I dreamed I stood by a great lake. Then I saw some one go on the water, and it was one whom I will not name. He climbed up in a large pond-lily, and sat and sang. But I went out on one of those large leaves that the pond-lily has, and which lie and float; on it I wanted to row over to him. But no sooner had I stepped on the leaf than it began to sink with me, and I grew much alarmed and cried. Then he came rowing over to me in the pond-lily, lifted me up to where he sat, and we rowed all over the lake. Was not that a nice dream?"
The little maiden who had told the little story now came.
"I dreamed I had caught a little bird, and I was so happy that I did not want to let it go until I got home. But there I did not dare let go of it, lest father and mother should tell me I must let it out again. So I went up in the garret with it, but there the cat was lurking, and so I could not let go of it there either. Then I did not know what to do, so I took it up in the hay-loft; but, good gracious! there were so many cracks there that it could easily fly away! Well, then I went out in the yard again, and there I thought stood one whom I will not name. He was playing with a large, black dog. "I would rather play with that bird of yours," said he, and came close up to me. But I thought I started to run, and he and the large dog after me, and thus I ran all round the yard; but then mother opened the front door, drew me quickly in, and slammed the door. Outside, the boy stood laughing, with his face against the window-pane. "See, here is the bird!" said he,--and, just think, he really had the bird! Was not that a funny dream?"
Then she came who had told about all the thrushes,--Eli they had called her. It was the Eli he had seen that evening in the boat and in the water. She was the same and yet not the same, so grown-up and pretty she looked as she sat there, with her delicately cut face and slender form.
She laughed immoderately, and therefore it was long before she could control herself; but then she told as follows:--
"I had been feeling so glad that I was coming to the nutting-party to-day that I dreamed last night I was sitting here on the hill. The sun shone brightly, and I had a whole lapful of nuts. But then there came a little squirrel, right in among the nuts, and it sat on its hind legs in my lap and ate them all up. Was not that a funny dream?"
Yet other dreams were told Arne, and then he was to decide which was the finest. He had to take a long time to consider, and meanwhile G.o.dfather started off with the whole crowd for the gard, and Arne was to follow.
They sprang down the hill, formed in a row when they had reached the plain, and sang all the way to the house.
Arne still sat there listening to the singing. The sun fell directly on the group, it shone on their white sleeves; soon they twined their arms about each other"s waists; they went dancing across the meadow, G.o.dfather after them with his cane, because they were treading down his gra.s.s. Arne thought no more about the dreams. Soon he even left off watching the girls; his thoughts wandered far beyond the valley, as did the fine sunbeams, and he sat alone there on the hill and spun. Before he was aware of it, he was entangled in a close web of melancholy; he yearned to break away, and never in the world before so ardently as now.
He faithfully promised himself that when he got home he would talk with his mother, come of it what would.
His thoughts grew stronger, and drifted into the song,--
"Over the lofty mountains."
Words had never flowed so readily as now, nor had they ever blended so surely into verse,--they almost seemed like girls sitting around on a hill. He had a sc.r.a.p of paper about him and placing it on his knee, he wrote. When the song was complete, he arose, like one who was released, felt that he could not see people, and took the forest road home, although he knew that the night, too, would be needed for this. The first time he sat down to rest on the way, he felt for the song, that he might sing it aloud as he went along, and let it be borne all over the parish; but he found he had left it in the place where it was written.
One of the girls went up the hill to look for him, did not find him, but found his song.
CHAPTER X.
To talk with the mother was more easily thought than done. Arne alluded to Kristian and the letter that never came; but the mother went away from him, and for whole days after he thought her eyes looked red. He had also another indication of her feelings, and that was that she prepared unusually good meals for him.
He had to go up in the woods to fetch an armful of fuel one day; the road led through the forest, and just where he was to do his chopping was the place where people went to pick whortleberries in the autumn. He had put down his axe in order to take off his jacket, and was just about beginning, when two girls came walking along with berry pails. It was his wont to hide himself rather than meet girls, and so he did now.
"O dear, O dear! What a lot of berries! Eli, Eli!"
"Yes, dear, I see them."
"Well, then, do not go any farther; here are many pailfuls!"
"I thought there was a rustling in that bush over there!"
"Oh, you must be mad!" and the girls rushed at each other, and put their arms about each other"s waists. They stood for a long while so still, that they scarcely breathed.
"It is surely nothing; let us go on picking!"
"Yes, I really think we will."
And so they began to gather berries.
"It was very kind of you, Eli, to come over to the parsonage to-day.
Have you anything to tell me?"
"I have been at G.o.dfather"s."
"Yes, you told me that; but have you nothing about _him_,--you know who?"
"Oh, yes!"
"Oh, oh! Eli, is that so? Make haste; tell me!"
"He has been there again!"
"Oh, nonsense!"