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EDINBURGH AND LONDON i PUBLISHEES' ITOTE. ^ The present edition of Bjornstjerne Bjornson's ■works is published by special arrangement with ^ the author. Mr. Bjornson has desimated Profes- sor Easmus B. Anderson as his English translator, cooperates with him, and revises each work before ^ it is translated, thus giving his personal attention. ' to this edition. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OP BJOENSTJERKE BJOEKSOlsr. Only a very condensed sketch can here be given of the great Norse poet, novelist, dramatist, orator, and political leader, whose works are now offered to the public. Bjornstjerne Bjornson was born December 8, 1832, in Kvikne, a rural district in the central part of Nor- way, at the foot of the beautiful Dovre Mountains, where his father was a Lutheran priest. The scen- ery is grand and majestic, though rather austere; and life is of a somewhat solitary character, for the farm-houses here, as elsewhere in Norway, are widely separated from each other. While the poet was yet a mere boy, his father was transferred to the celebrated Romsdal, one of the linest valleys in Western Norway. Here the sombre* hues of the mountain-masses are mingled with the variegated splendor of the valley. Dark fjords stretch their long arms into the country. The mount- ains, whose summits are crowned with ice and snow, rise almost perpendicularly from the water's edge in 6 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF some places, while in others golden fields, green mead- ows, and fine forests lie between the fjord and the mountain. The ravines on the mountain-tops are filled with mighty glaciers, that clasp their frosty arms around the valley, and send down, like streams of tears along the weather-beaten cheeks of the mount- ains, countless waterfalls and cascades, overarched by beautiful rainbows, and falling in endless variety into the valley and fjord below. The environments are of no slight importance in the development of genius, and we find the impres- sions inspired by the weird scenes amid which Bjorn- son spent the days of his childhood, constantly unfold- ing blossoms in his poems, novels, and dramas. Nor is it alone the impressions that these scenes made upon him that are to be taken into account. The Norse folk have been looking upon these same silver-crested mountains, from which the summer sun never de- parts, upon the same ocean, islands, lakes, fjords, and flower-clad valleys, and have listened to the same melodious brooks, babbling streams, thundering riv- ers, roaring waterfalls, and soughing groves, for gen- erations. These surroundings have more or less colored the Norse myths, epics, folk-lore tales, bal- lads, melodies, proverbs, eddas, sagas, customs, man- ners ; in short, all the products of the Norse mind and heart, the whole life of the Norsemen. In estimat- ing Bjornson's genius, therefore, the influence of the environments and of Norse traditions upon countless generations of his forefathers must not be over- BJORXSTJERNE BJORNSOX. 7 looked. We hope to be understood when we say, briefly, that the external, physical nature of Norway largely modified and moulded the ancient Norsemen's character ; that nature and the Norse character thus formed gave color to the Norsemen's religion, tales, traditions, and other intellectual products ; that the climate and scenery of Norway, together with the accumulative influence of the national character and the popular traditions and literature upon the people from generation to generation, produced a full-blown flower in the genius of Bjornstjerne Bjornson ; and, finally, that this principle may be applied to any great national writer or artist in any country. Nor do we by this statement mean to exclude the influence exer- cised by foreign nations and foreign literatures upon Bjornson himself, and upon his ancestors. At the age of twelve Bjornson was sent to the Molde grammar school. Molde is a small coast town in Romsdal, which is celebrated on account of the grand and beautiful scenery with which it is sur- rounded. But he was a dull scholar. When he was admonished to apply himself, in order that he might learn enough to enter the university, he answered, " They want me to study and read so much, while I would prefer to write." He had already begun to think of becoming a poet, and of course the greatest of all poets, though he was constantly reminded that he was thought stupid. People called the boy an agitator. When he was only fifteen years old, he organized a society of boys and founded a paper BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF written by hand. Its name was, as might be ex- pected, " Liberty." In the society political matters were discussed, and Bjornson was the leader of the republican party. This was in the year 1848, when revolutionary ideas found their way even to the re- motest valleys of Norway. Bjornson's society had a debate on the election of president of the French republic, and he voted for Lamartine, while the ma- jority voted for Louis Napoleon. Nor did Bjornson distinguish himself at the uni- versity in Christiania, whither he was sent in 1852. He continued to neglect his regular studies, and de- voted himself to poetry and journalism. Caring but little for books, he studied all the more earnebtly the volumes of nature and human society, both of which he has interpreted with remarkable force and beauty. It is related that a Swede, who visited Christiania in 1853, and was struck by the fine ap- pearance of a young man in a gathering of students, turned to one near him and inquired who that young man was. The answer was, " Bjornstjerne Bjornson, a young man who wants to become a genius." One of the by-standers, who had listened to the conversa- tion, added, " I would rather call him a young genius who wants to become a man." While pursuing his university course, which he never completed, he pro- duced his first literary work of any considerable length. It was a drama, entitled " Valborg." It was accepted by the managers of the theatre, but, before it was played, ho took it back and destroyed BJORNSTJERNE B JOHNSON. 9 it. He had already outgrown it, and decided tliat it would not do him credit. For some time afterward (1854-56) he devoted his time mainly to dramatic criticism and to reviewing books for " Aftenbladet,'* later also for " Morgenbladet," and to corresponding for provincial newspapers. Norway, since her separation from Denmark in 1814, had been striving to create a national literature, and when Bjornson entered the university in 1852, the first literary epoch of the young and free nation (the Wergeland-Welhaven epoch) was about being completed. It had produced Maurits Christoffer Hansen, the founder of the Norwegian novel ; Johau Welhaven, the leader of the consirvative party, which aimed to build up a Norwegian literature ou the foundation of foreign, particularly Danish cult- ure ; and his great opponent, Henrik Wergeland, under whose banner gathered all the liberal spirits, all who had faith in the ability of Norway to develop an entirely independent national literature, art, and life. Their object was to root out every trace of foreign influence. This first epoch had also produced Asbjornson and Moe, the collectors of the popular tales of Norway ; the great poet, Andreas Munch ; ♦he historians, P. A. Munch and Rudolf Keyser ; knd a considerable number of eminent scholars, Lmong whom may be noted Sars the naturalist, Han- ften the astronomer, Abel the mathematician, Aaseu the Imguist and creator of a new language for Norway, based ou tiie dialects. The famous violin- 10 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF ist, Ole Bull, also belongs to this epoch, and around him cluster a magnificent group of musical com- posers, painters, and other artists. With the beijinninff of the second half of this cent- ury we enter upon the second epoch of modern Nor- wegian literature — the so-called Bjornson -Ibsen epoch. The poets of this period are Bjornstjerne Bjornson, Ilenrik Ibsen, Jonas Lie, and Kristofer Janson. Of these Bjornson is decidedly the most conspicuous, and may be said to be the legitimate successor to Ilenrik Wergeland, with whom he has much in common both as poet and political leader. He is in fact carrying forward the work left unfin- ished by Wergeland ; while Welhaven, the great an- tagonist of Wergeland, has found no eminent suc- cessor in the ranks of living Norse writers. Bjornson's literary career really begins with the year 1857, when he published his first novel. Since then his life has been singularly varied and active, and in the midst of his many conflicting occupations he has been an exceedingly prolific writer. Twice he has been director of a theatre : the first time in 1858, when Ole Bull put the theatre which he had founded in Bergen into his hands ; and the second time in 1865, when the management of the Christiania royal theatre was intrusted to him. He held both positions, however, only for a brief space of time. Three times he has entered the field of journalism; the first in 1856*, as editor of his own t>aper, the " Illustreret Folkeblad ; " the second iu BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON. 11 1859, as co-editor of " Aftenbladet ; " and the third La 1866, as editor and publisher of "Norsk Folke- blad." Since 1856 he has been a constant and dili- gent contributor to the public press on all ques- tions of national interest. His articles and addresses would alone, if collected, fill many large volumes. His winters he has frequently spent abroad, in Den- mark, Germany, France, and Italy, and he is at this writing visiting the United States, whose citizens everywhere give an enthusiastic welcome to the tall, erect, broad-shouldered, and silver-tongued son of the frozen North. His first novel, produced in 1857, was " Synnove Solbakken," the volume now presented to our readers in an English dress. It at once made a profound im- pression, and established his reputation both at home and abroad, not only on account of the simple and charming plot, but also for the short, direct, pithy, saga style in which it was written ; and here we may add that the author has been growing increasingly , terse and concise in his style from that day to this. It became the corner-stone of a new school of litera- ture, and when we take into consideration that the Wergeland-Welhaven epoch continued to be more or less deeply imbued with Danish culture, modern Nor- wegian literature may fairly be said to begin with " Synnove Solbakken." It was the first great national work unimpressed with the old Danish stamp. As is the case in the old Norse sagas, portraits of the char* acters are not drawn, nor are his works marred hy 12 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF leDgtliy dissertations from a moral stand-point. In* stead of long, fine-simn declamations of this sort, he lets Lis characters speak for themselves, and leaves it to the reader to judge whether they are good or bad. He does not stop to describe separately the details of features and dress, but he watches his opportunity to give glimpses of them as the story progresses. He por- trays his men and women while he tells what they do and say, and thus the reader knows, when he has fin- ished the book, how Synnove, or Thorbjorn, or Aslak must have appeared to the author. As before stated, there has been no interruption in Bjornson's literary activity, and he has given the world a series of novels and dramas, which have found their way into all lands and beea translated into many tongues. They all re . eal a otartling psychological insight and acquaint- ance with the deepest laws of human life. His novels are, besides Synnove Solbakken ; " " Arne ; " "A Happy Boy ; " " The Fisher Maiden ; " " The Bridal March ; " " Magnhild ; " " Guiseppe Mansana ; " and several short stories. His dramas are : " Halte Hul- da ; " " Mellem Slagene " (Between the Battles) ; Kong Svserre ; " " Sigurd Slembe ; " " Maria Stu- i.rt ; " " De Nygifte " (The Honeymoon) ; " Sigurd Jorsalfar " (Sigurd the Crusader) ; " En Fallit " (A Bankrupt) ; " Redaktoren " (The Editor) ; " Kon gen " (The King) ; Leonarda ; " and " Det Ny System" (The New System). His lyric and national songs are published in one volume, and he is also the author of an epic poem, published in a separate vol- bjOenstjerne bjornson. 13 ume, entitled " Arnljot Gelline." When we add to this a small volume, "Vis Knut" (Wise Knut), and his little volume Republiken " (The Republic), issued late in 1880, we have completed the list of his published works. Mr. Bjornson is without a peer in the north of Europe as novelist, national and lyric poet, orator, and contributor to the daily press ; and as dramatist he knows but one competitor for the first rank, Hen- rik Ibsen, whose "Love's Comedy," " Brand," and " Peer Gynt " Edm. W. Gosse, in his " Studies in the Literature of Northern Europe" (London, 1879), characterizes as " a trilogy, perhaps, for sustained vigor of expression, for affluence of execution, and for brilliance of dialogue, the greatest of modern times." On the other hand, it is interesting to notice that Robert Buchanan, an equally high authority in liter- ature, pronounces Audhild, one of the female charac- ters in " Sigurd Slembe," Bjornson's great dramatic trilogy, " a creation worthy of Goethe at his best," — worthy, in his opinion, " to rank with ' Clarchen,' * Marguerite,' and ' Mignon ' as a masterpiece of deli- cate characterization." Bjornson has never been surpassed in his delineation of delicate female types, both in his novels and dramas, and this furnishes one of the best proofs of his claim to rank among the master poets of any age. Bjornson's dramas have had a boundless influence upon modern thought in Scandinavia, aijd we might include Germany, and when properly translated they will not fail to secure him the homage of England and America. 14 BIOGEAPHICAL SKETCH OF It may be said tliat Bjonison's great work, or rather the red thread running through all of Bjorn- son's works, is a struggle for tbe independence of Norway ; an effort to secure an emancipation and de- velopment of all those intellectual energies that Nor- way may properly call her own. We discover this tendency alike in his novels, poems, dramas, and in his miscellaneous writings. He loves bis country, and therefore takes a profound interest in every question that concerns its welfare; and it is safe to say that his name is intimately connected with every important issue that has been raised in Norway dur- ing the past twenty years. In every question his words and his songs have been heard either ^ro or C071, In many movements he has been the first who has spoken. His literary works are thoroughly im- bued with the progressive spirit of the age. In his novel "Magnhild*' and in his drama "Leonarda'' he has championed the rights of women and exposed the wrongs in private and domestic life in a manner that would delight the heart of Julia Ward Howe or T. W. Higginson. He saw the corruption of the press, and wrote his drama "The Editor." He saw the corruption in the world of trade and commerce, and wrote his drama The Bankrupt ; " a play, by the way, which it seems might be made very successful on the English stage. In his drama " The King," Bjornson has given the fullest and freest expression to his republican tenets. Bjornson's political speeches are landmarks in the national development of Norway ; and his lectures BJOENSTJEKNE BJOKNSON. 15 are models of eloquence, both as regards style and delivery. One of the most splendid efforts of his life as an orator was his address at Ole Bull's grave, on August 24, 1880, to an audience of more than twenty thousand people. Ole Bull's funeral was more mag- nificent and solemn than if he had been a king, but the greatest honor of the day was embodied in Bjornson's remarks, of which every word was a diamond in the crown of the violinist's immortal fame. When Bjornson writes a national song it is at once taken up and sung by the whole nation, from Lindes- nes to North Cape. The national hymn of Norway to-day is his song, written in 1859, of which we will attempt to translate two or three stanzas : — " Yes, we love with fond devotion Norway's mountain domes, Rising, storm -lashed, o'er the ocean, With their thousand homes ; Love our country, while we're bending Thoughts to fathers grand, And to saga-night that's sending Dreams upon our land. " Harald Norway 's throne ascended By his mighty sword ; Hakon Norway's rights defended Helped by Oyvind's word ; From the blood of Olaf sainted , ■ Christ's red cross arose ; From its peaks King Sverre tainted Bishops dared oppose. "Peasants all their axes brightened, Ready for each foe ; 16 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF Tordenskjold in b.attles lightened Set the laud aglow. Even women did assemble On the bloody })laiu ; Others could but weep and tremble, But 'twas not in vain." Another very popular song by Bjornson is his Over de hoie Fjselde " (Over the Lofty Mountains), which is very characteristic of the author's style, and expresses in sublime verses the longings and aspiration of the young Norsemen. It is, in fact, an expression of the yearning of the young Norway, and is not in- applicable to the ambitious struggles of the young Bjornson himself. Mr. Bjornson told us, when we visited him in 1873, that he considered it his best poem. We are ha})py to be able to give a spirited and faithful metrical version of it from the pen of Auber Forestier, the author of Echoes from Mist- land," and translator of Kristofer Janson's ^'The Spell-Bound Fiddler,'' and various other works. " Oh, how I wonder what I should see Over the lofty mountains ! Snow here shuts out the view from me. Hound about stands the green pine-tree, Longing to hasten over ; Dare it become a rover ? Soars the eagle, with strong wing play, Over the lofty mountains ; Kows through the young and vigorous day, Sating his courage in quest of prey ; When he will, swooping downward, Tow'rd far-off lands gazing onward. BJORNSTJERNE BJOKNSON. 17 ** Leaf-heavy apple, wilt thou not go Over the lofty mountains ? Forth putting buds 'mid summer's glow, Thou wilt till next time wait, I know ; All of these birds art swinging, Knowing not what they're singing. *' He who for twenty years long'd to flee Over the lofty mountains, Nor beyond them can hope to see, Smaller each year feels himself to be ; Hears what the birds are singing, Thou art with confidence swinging. *' Bird, with thy chatt'ring, what wouldst thou here. Over the lofty mountains ? Fairer the lands beyond must appear, Higher the trees, and the skies far more clear ; "VYouldst thou but longing be bringing, Bird, but no wings with thy singing ? " Shall I the journey never take Over the lofty mountains ? Must my poor thoughts on this rock-wall break ? Must it a dread, ice-bound prison make, Shutting at last in around me, Till for my tomb it surround me ? ** Forth will I ! forth ! Oh, far, far away, Over the lofty mountains ! I will be crushed and consumed if I stay ; Courage tow'rs up and seeks the way, Let it its flight now be taking. Not on this rock- wall be breaking ! '* One day I know I shall wander afar Over the lofty mountains ! Lord, my God, is thy door ajar? Good is thy home, where the blessed are ; 18 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF Keep it, though closed a while longer, Till my deep longiag grow stronger." The stirring music written for both of these poems will be found in the Norway Music Album," recently published. We cannot close this brief sketch of Mr. Ejornson without giving an account of an interesting incident which occurred in Madison, Wisconsin, during his visit there in the beginning of January 1881. While Mr. Bjornson was stopping at the hotel in this city, an elderly man came to see him. At the sight of Bjornson the man was very much moved, — ■ sobbed like a child, the tears choking his voice, while he attempted to greet the great skald of the North. Mr. Bjornson also appeared to be deeply touched by the sudden appearance of his guest, and, grasping his hand, he exclaimed, Why, are you here, my dear Arne " The scene of their meeting was intensely affecting, and the reason for it will be evident from the following explanation : ^ Arne is not the " Arne " of Bjornson's novel of that name, but Arne Kulter- stad, a Norwegian, whose life he had saved twenty years ago. He is a man about fifty years old, has a large frame, and in his younger days must have been the very picture of strength and beauty. Some twenty-five years ago, Arne, a fine-looking 1 Mr. Bjornson told the story in detail, in my presence, to a reporter of the Madison State Journal^ from which I have, in part, transcribed it for these pages. BJOEXSTJERNE BJOENSON. 19 vigorous young man, who bad been a sergeant in the Norwegian army, and as such had become noted for bis athletic strength, as well as for his kindly disposi- tion and honest character, had a serious feud with one of his neighbors in his mountain home in Val- ders, a valley in the central part of Norway. His enemy was a dissipated, mean, cringing, and base villain, who at a party succeeded in getting Arne drunk, and persuaded him to sign papers by which he lost his old homestead. The feud grew in bitter- ness from year to year. One day, when business bad brought both to the same place, it came to blows between them, and his foe drew a knife, and gave Arne severe wounds in his hand and arm, the marks of which he wears to this day. There were many other aggravating circumstances, among which may be mentioned, as the worst, the fact that upon the farm which his enemy had gotten possession of Arne's father lived and received his annual al- lowance, according to Norwegian law. When the father lay upon bis death-bed, Arne visited him, and learned that he bad been ill-treated, and that his death had probably been hastened by the cruelty of the owner of the farm. This so enraged Arne that revenge was a mere question of time and opportunity. The opportunity w^as not easily found, for the villain feared Arne, and shrewdly avoided meeting him. He never went out alone. One morning, early, be bad, however, deemed it safe to go a short distance from home with bis team. Eat it so happened that 20 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF Arne too had gone out that morning with his rifle to hunt, when on returning he saw his enemy, and at once determined to give him a mark at least as severe as the one he bore himself. He raised his gun to take sight. He was one of the best marksmen in the country, and had brought down many a bird on the wing ; but, unfortunately, as his enemy was walking by the side of his team, he happened to stumble just at the moment when Arne pulled the trigger, and, in- stead of giving him a severe wound in the arm, as he intended, the bullet entered his breast, and he soon after expired. Arne was convicted of murder, and sentenced to death. This was in the lower court. The case was appealed. Mark now the remarkable incident which occurred ! Having been sentenced to death by this lower court, he was to be transferred to an adjoining bailiwick. The bailiff who had him in charge, know- ing his prisoner's honesty and truthfulness, did what probably no other bailiff ever did. The bailiff was very busy, and Arne, knowing this, told him that there was no necessity of his going with him or send- ing any guards, for he would go alone and place himself in the hands of the officer in the next baili- wick ; and such confidence had the bailiff in Arne's uprightness and integrity that he unhesitatingly sent him alone, without any guard, and Arne promptly did as he had agreed ! The sentence of the lower court was confirmed by the supreme court, without any recommendation to BJORNSTJERNE BJOliNSON. 21 pardon. As there was no direct evidence in the case, Arne's lawyer had advised the defendant to deny everything. The effect of a confession was now re- sorted to, but without avail. He was locked up in prison, and in a few days he was to be beheaded. The young and enthusiastic poet Bjornson was at this time in the capital. He had heard of the case, had read all that had been said about it in the press, and had become so much interested in it that he went to the prison, partly to see this remarkable criminal, partly out of curiosity to see a man who stood at the threshold of execution. He had a long talk with Arne, and was much affected by his manner and by his story of the aggravating circumstances which had led to his great crime. As he was about to leave the prison-cell, Arne arose, stretched out both arms to Bjornson, and besought him in tones of deepest agony : Oh, save me ! " These words rang in the ears of the poet, and he determined to move heaven and earth, if this were possible, to pro- cure a pardon. He immediately set himself to work, and wrote for the press what he still considers the most masterly article of his life ; indeed, such an article as but few others than Bjornson could write. It set the whole community, the whole land, in commotion. The wives and daughters of the judges who had pronounced the sentence and the wives of the members of the king's cabinet were the first to sign a petition to the govern- ment for his pardon. The death-sentence was changed by the king to imprisonment for life. For twenty long 22 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF years Arne had toremain in prison, and not until the sum- mer of 1880 was he released. By this time his wife had died, and his family was scattered. He found himself alone and friendless in a dreary world. After twenty years of confinement within the walls of a prison, liberty itself scarcely seemed a boon. He came to Wisconsin, where he had a married daughter. Hearing of Bjornson's arrival in Madison, he immediately came to visit him ; and the meeting of these two men was indeed an affecting scene. " You are my second father, Bjorn- son, and I cannot tell you how much I love you," said Arne to his benefactor. I owe my life to you." Arne is poor, and feels nowhere at home. America seems no place for him. The poet, with his usual kindness, received him as cordially as a brother. He offered to care for the unfortunate man in his old age, and directed me to advance to Arne the neces- sary funds for defraying his expenses back to Nor- way, where he will have a home and employment on Bjornson's estate. This unvarnished tale, besides furnishing a real Arne by the side of the hero of his novel *'Arne," gives Bjornson a w^ell-earned place among the philan- thropists of the world. Of the translation it is needless to say that pains have been taken to make it as faithful and readable as possible. It remains only to be added that in the preparation of this English edition of Bjornson's stories I have BJOENSTJEENE BJORNSON. 23 availed myself of the experienced and valuable assist- ance of Auber Forestier, whose kind services are hereby gratefully acknlowledged. EASMUS B. ANDERSON. SYNNOYE SOLBAKKEK CHAPTER I. In a large valley it often happens that there is a high spot, open on every side, which the sun paints with his pencils from early dawn until twilight has faded away. And they who live nearer the foot of the mountains, and sel- domer get the sun, call this spot a Solbakke.^ The person of whom this story tells lived in such a spot as this, and from it the gard ^ took its name. There the snow was last to cover the ground in the autumn, and there it first melted in the spring. The owners of the gard were Haugians,^ and were called Readers, because they read the Bible more diligently than other people. The man's name was Guttorm, his wife's Karen. Their first child was a son ; but death took him from them, and for three years they never went 1 A sunny hill. 2 A Norwegian farm. 8 Followers of Hans Nielsen Hauge, a Norwegian revivalist in iie early part of this century. 26 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. on the east side of the church. At the end of this time a girl was given to them, whom they named after the boy ; his name had been Syvert, and she was christened Synnov, as they could not find anything nearer. But the mother called her Synnove, because she had a habit, as long as the child was small, of adding " mine" to the name, and so this seemed to come easier. However this might be, as the girl grew up every one called her Synnove, as her mother did, and most people said that, in the memory of man, there had not been in the parish so fair a girl as Synnove Solbakken. She was not many years old before they took her with them to church every Sunday there was serv- ice, although at first Synnove knew no better than to think the priest was standing there scolding at Slave Bent, whom she saw sitting right down below the pulpit. Her father, how- ever, wanted her to go with them, — " to form the habit," he said ; and her mother wished it, too, " because no one knew how the child would be taken care of at home while they were gone." If there chanced to be a lamb, a kid, or some little pig on the gard that did not thrive, or a cow that anything was the matter with, it was always given over into Synnove's possession ; and the mother seemed to feel sure SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 27 that from that moment it did well. The father did not quite believe this to be the cause; but after all it did not matter which of them owned the beasts, so that these only prospered." On the opposite side of the valley, and close to the foot of a high mountain, there was a gard named Granliden,^ so called because it lay in the midst of a great spruce forest, the only one for many miles around. The owner's great-grandfather had been among those who lay in waiting for the Russians in Holstein, and from that expedition he had brought home in his knapsack many foreign and strange-looking seeds. These he planted round about his house; but in the course of time one kind after another had died out ; meanwhile some spruce cones, which, oddly enough, had been mixed in with the rest, had produced a dense forest, which now shaded the house on every side. The Hol- stein soldier's name had been Thorbjijrn, after his grandfather ; that of his eldest son Scemund, after his father ; and thus the owners of the gard had alternately been named Thorbjorn and Ssemund, from time out of mind. But it was said that only every other man at Granli- den had good luck, and it was not he who bore the name Thorbjorn. The present owner, See 1 The spruce slope. 28 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. mund, had thought the matter over from vari- ous points of view, when his first son was born, but scarcely liked to break the family custom, and so called him Thorbjorn. He pondered much upon whether the boy might not be so brought up that he would escape the fate gossip had laid in his way. He was not altogether sure, but he thought he detected a willful dis- position in the boy. "That shall be plucked out," said he to the mother ; and when Thor- bjorn was only three years old the father would sometimes sit with the switch in his hand, and compel him to carry all the sticks of fire-wood back to their place ; to pick up the cup he had thrown down ; to stroke the cat he had pinched. But the mother preferred to leave the room when the father was in this mood. Ssemund was surprised to find that the older the boy grew the more there was to correct in him, and this in spite of the fact that he was dealt with more and more strictly. He set him early to reading, and took him out in the fields with him in order to have an eye upon him. The mother had a large house and small chil- dren ; she could do no more than caress and ad- monish him every morning, while she was dress- ing him, and talk gently with the father when Sabbaths brought them together. But Thor- SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 29 bjorn, when he got a whipping because a-h spelled a5, and not ha^ and because he was not allowed to administer the rod to little Ingrid, as his father did to him, thought, " It is strange that I must have such a hard time, while all my little brothers and sisters have everything so nice." As he passed most of his time with his father, and did not dare say much to him, he talked little, but thought the more. Once, though, while they were hauling in the wet hay, the words escaped him, — Why is all the hay dry and in over there at Solbakken, while here it is still wet?" " Because they have the sun oftener than we." This was the first time he had noticed that the bright sunshine over there, which he so many times had sat and looked at with pleas- ure, was something that he was shut out from. After that day his eye fell oftener on Solbak- ken than before. "Do not sit gaping there," said his father, and gave him a push. " Over here we have to drudge all we can, both old and young, if we are to get anything housed." Sa3mund changed his servant-boy when Thor- bjorn was about seven or eight. Aslak was the name of the new servant, and he had already 30 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. been about a good deal, though he was yet a mere boy. The evening he came Thorbjorn had gone to bed ; but the next day, as he sat reading, the door was pushed open with a kick, the like of which he had never heard before. It was Aslak, who came rushing in with a large armful of wood, and flung it down with such force that the sticks flew in every direction. Then he jumped up and down to stamp the snow off of him, and with every jump he ex- claimed, — It is cold, said the troll-bride, as she sat in ice up to her waist ! " The father was not in, but the mother swept together the snow and carried it out, without a word. "What are you staring at? "said Aslak to Thorbjorn. ''Not at anything," said the latter, for he was frightened. " Have you seen the rooster you have in the back of your book there ? " " Yes." '' He has a lot of hens around him when the book is shut ; have you seen that? " " No." « Well, then, look." The boy did so. SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 31 " You are a dunce ! " said Aslak to him. But from that moment no one had the power over him that Aslak had. " You do not know anything," said Aslak, one day, to Thorbjorn, who was trotting after him, as usual, to watch what he was doing. " Yes, I do. I know as far as the fourth part in my catechism." " Pooh ! No, you have not even heard of the troll who danced with the girl until the sun rose, and then burst like a calf that has been eating sour milk ! " In all his days, Thorbjorn had never heard any one display so much knowledge at once. " Where was that?" he asked. " Where ? Why, it was — yes, it was over there at Solbakken ! " Thorbjorn stared. " Did you ever hear of the man who sold himself to the devil for a pair of old boots? " Thorbjorn forgot to answer, so astonished was he. " I suppose you are thinking of where that was, hey ? It was also over there at Solbak- ken, right down there in that brook which you Bee. Lord help us ! Your religious knowledge does not amount to much," added he. I fancy you have not even heard of Kari, with the wooden petticoat." 32 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. No, Thorbjorn had not heard of anything. And while Aslak was working fast he was tell- ing still faster, and it was about Kari with the wooden petticoat, about the mill that ground salt at the bottom of the sea, about the devil with the wooden shoes, about the troll that got his beard caught in the branch of a tree, about the seven green maidens who pulled the hair out of Peter Hunter's legs while he slept and could not possibly awaken ; and it all took place over there at Solbakken. " What, in the name of Heaven, ails the boy ? " said the mother, the next day. " He has been on his knees on the bench yonder, looking over at Solbakken, ever since it was light." " Yes, he keeps very busy to-day," said the father, who lay taking his rest the long Sunday. " Oh, folks say that he has captured Synnove Solbakken," Aslak was saying ; but folks say so many strange things," added he. Thorbjorn did not exactly understand him, but nevertheless his whole face grew fiery red. When Aslak commented on this, he crept down from the bench, took his catechism, and seated himself to read. " Yes, you may as well console yourself with the word of God," said Aslak ; ''you will never get her, any w^ay." SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 83 When the week was so far advanced that he thought they had forgotten this, he asked his mother, quite softly, for he felt bashful about it,— Say, who is Synnove Solbakken ? " *' She is a little girl who will one day own Solbakken." " Has she, then, not a wooden petticoat ? " The mother looked at him in surprise. " What is that you say ? " said she. He felt that he must haye said something stupid, and was silent. " A prettier child has never been seen than she is," added the mother, ^' and that is her re- ward from the Lord because she is always kind and good and is an industrious reader," Now he knew that, too. One day, when Saemund had been out in the field with Aslak, he said in the evening to Thorbjorn, — " You must not go with Aslak any more." But Thorbjorn gave little heed to this. So after a while the order came : — " If you are found with him any more, it will not be well for you ! " Then Thorbjorn stole after Aslak, when the father did not see him. Saemund surprised them, though, one day, when they sat talking 3 84 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. together; then Thorbjorn got a thrashmg, and was told to go in. But afterward Thorbjorn watched his chance to be with Aslak when his father was not at home. One Sunday, while the father was at church, Thorbjorn got his hands into mischief at home. Aslak and he were throwing snow-balls at each other. Oh, stop ! you are choking me ! " begged Thorbjorn. ''Let us throw together at some- thing else." Aslak was ready at once, and so they threw first at the slender spruce over by the store- house, then at the store-house door, and finally at the store-house window. " Not at the window itself," said Aslak, '' but at the frame around it." Meanwhile, Thor- bjorn hit the window-pane, and turned pale. Pooh, who will know it ? Try it again." He did so, but hit another. *' Now I will not throw any more/' said he. At that moment his eldest sister, little Ii> grid, came out. " Throw at her^ Thorbjorn ! " Thorbjorn did so immediately. The girl cried, and the mother came out. She bade him stop. '' Throw, throw ! " whispered Aslak. SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 35 Thorbjorn was hot and excited ; lie did so. " Why, you must be losing your senses ! " Baid the mother, and rushed toward him, — he ran before, she after, all round the grounds. Aslak laughed and the mother scolded. She caught Thorbjorn at last in a snow-drift, and began to give him a good drubbing. " I will strike back again, I will ! " said he. That is the way they do here." The mother ceased in surprise, and looked at him. That some one else has taught you," she then said, and taking him silently by the hand, led him in. She spoke not another word to him, but kindly cared for his little brothers and sisters, and told them their father would now soon come home from church. Then it began to grow pretty hot m the room. Aslak asked leave to visit a relative ; he got it at once; but Thorbjorn felt much smaller when Aslak was gone. He had a terrible pain in his stomach, and his hands were so clammy that they made his book moist when he took hold of it. If only his mother would not say anything to his father, when he came home; but Thorbjorn could not bring himself to ask it. Everything his eye fell on kept changing looks, and the clock said. Spanking, spanking, — spanking, 36 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. spanking. He bad to get up to the window and look over at Solbakken. It alone, all cov- ered with snow, lay quiet and sparkling in the sunshine, just as usual ; the house stood and laughed out of all the window-panes, and there was surely not one of them broken ; the smoke rose with such tremendous joy from the chim- ney that he judged that over there, too, they were getting dinner for the church people. No doubt Synnove was watching for her father, and was not to have a whipping when he got home. Thorbjorn did not know what to do with himself, and all at once became so affec- tionate to his sisters that there was no end to it. To Ingrid he was so good that he gave her a bright button he had received from Aslak. She put her arms about his neck, and he put his arms about hers, saying, — Dear little Ingrid mine, are you angry with me?" "No, little Thorbjorn ! You may throw as much snow at me as you like." But there was some one stamping the snow cff in the hall. Yes, sure enough, it was the father. He appeared to be in a good humor, and that made the matter still worse. " Well? " said he, looking around, — and it was astonishing that the clock did not tumble SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 37 down. The mother put the dinner on the ta- ble. " How have things been going here ? " asked the father, as he seated himself and took up his spoon. Thorbjorn looked at his mother until the tears came into his eyes. " Oh — well," said she, with incredible slow- ness ; and she meant to say more, — that he plainly saw. " I gave Aslak permission to go out," said she. " She did not do it this time," thought Thor- bjorn. He began to play with Ingrid, as though he were thinking of nothing else in the world. The father had never taken so long to eat his dinner, and Thorbjorn set to work, at last, to count every bite; but when he came to the fourth he wanted to see how many he could count between the fourth and the fifth, and then he lost track of it. Finally, the father rose and went out. The window-panes ! the window- panes ! kept ringing in his ears, and he looked round to see whether those in the room were whole. Yes, they were all whole. But now his mother also went out. Thorbjorn took lit- tle Ingrid in his lap, and said, so gently that fihe stared at him in amazement, — *' Come, let us two play the gold princess in the meadow." 38 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. That slie would like to do. And so he sang while his legs trembled under him : - Little blossom, Meadow blossom, Hearken now to me ! If you will be my sweetheart so true, A velvet cloak I '11 give to you, Adorned with gold And pearls untold. Ditteli, dutteli, deadow, — The sun now shines on the meadow ! " Then she answered, — *'Gold princess, Jewel princess, Hearken now to me ! I 'II never be your sweetheart so true, I '11 have no velvet cloak from you. Adorned with gold And pearls untold. Ditteli, dutteli, deadow, — The sun now shmes on the meadow! " i But just as this game was well under way, his father came in, and iBxed knowing eyes on him. Thorbjorn drew Ingrid closer up in his lap, and did not fall from his chair. The father turned awaj^, said nothing. Half an hour passed ; he had not yet said anything, and Thorbjorn was almost about to be happy, but did not dare. He knew not what to think when the father himself helped to undress him 1 Aaber Forestier's translation. SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEK. 39 he began gradually to tremble again. Then his father patted him on the head and stroked his cheek ; this he had not done as far back as the boy could remember, and therefore Thorbjorn grew so warm about his heart and over his whole body that fear melted off him like ice beneath a sunbeam. He did not know how he got into bed, and as he could take neither to singing nor shouting, he folded his hands, said Our Father six times forwards and back- wards, quite softly, and felt, as he fell asleep, that there was no one on God's green earth he loved so dearly as his father. The next day he awakened in a terrible fright, because he could not scream ; for he was now to have a thrashing, after all. When he opened his eyes, he became aware, to his great relief, that he had only dreamed it ; but soon also became aware that some one else was just about to have a thrashing, and that was Aslak. Saemund was pacing the floor, and Thorbjorn well knew that step. The rather short but square-built man looked now and then from under his bushy brows in such a way at Aslak that the latter felt plainly what was in the wind ; Aslak was perched on the top of a great barrel, from the side of which his legs now dangled, now were drawn up. As usual, he SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. had his hands in his pockets and his cap drawn down lightly on his head, so that the matted locks of thick black hair protruded from under tlie fore-piece. The little crooked mouth' was more crooked than ever ; he held his whole head slightly aslant, and looked sideways at Sa^mund from beneath his half-closed eyelids. Yes, that boy of yours is bad enough," said he ; but, worse still, your horse is troll- scared." Ssemund paused. " You are a fool ! " said he, so that it rang through the room, and As- lak drew his eyelids more closely than ever together. Ssemund strode on again; Aslak sat still a while. " I tell you he is troll-scared," repeated he, and stole a glance after him to see what effect that had. " No ; but he is woods-scared, — that is what he is," said Saemund, moving on. " You felled a tree over him in the field, you careless slouch, and that is why no one can get him to pass there quietly any more." Aslak listened to this a while. Well, believe so, if you choose. It is no disgrace to believe a thing. But I doubt if that will set your horse right again," he added, SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 41 at the same time drawing himself farther back on the barrel, and shading his face with one hand. Saemund came right over to him, and said in a low, but rather dismal tone, — " You are a wicked " " Ssemund ! " was heard from the hearth. It was Ingebjorg, his wife, who sat there hushing him as she had hushed the youngest child, who was frightened, and had wanted to scream. The child had been quieted before, and now Saemund, too, was silent ; but he stuck his fist, which was a very small one for such a square- built man, right up under Aslak's nose, and held it there a while, as he bent forward and fairly scorched the boy's face with his eyes. Then he walked on as before, bestowing on him every now and then a hasty glance. Aslak was very pale, but he laughed over at Thorbjorn with one half of his face, while he kept the half turned toward Sasmund very straight. "Lord grant us good patience!" he ex- claimed, after a little while ; but at the samo time he drew up his elbow, as though to ward off a blow. Ssemund stopped suddenly, and fehrieked at the top of his voice, as he brought his foot down on the floor, so that Aslak was completely silenced, — ^ Do not you dare name Him I " 12 SYNls^OVE SOLBAKKEN. Ingebjorg arose with the infant, and took Ssemund gently by the arm. He did not look at her, but still he let his arm drop. She went to her seat ; he walked to and fro once more ; but neither said anything. As this lasted a while, Aslak had to break the silence again : — " Aye, He has a great deal to do at Gran- liden, — that He has ! " " Sasmund ! S^emund ! " whispered Ingebjorg, but before the words reached him Ssemund had already rushed at Aslak, who thrust out his foot. It was pushed down, the fellow seized by it and his jacket collar, lifted up, and then set against the closed door with such violence that the panel gave way, and he went through it head foremost. The wife, Thorbjorn, and all the children screamed and begged for him, and the whole house was in one wail. But Saemund darted out after him, not remembering to open the door properly, but kicking the remainder iiside, seized him again, carried him through the passage out into the yard, raised him high in the air, and flung him down again with all his might. And when Ssemund perceived that there was too much snow for him to be hurt badly enough, he planted his knee on Aslak's breast and beat him right in his face, lifted him the third time, bore him to a place that SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 43 was more free from snow, like a wolf that is dragging after him a dog he has been tearing to pieces, let him fall again, and this time more savagely than before, then sprang on him with his knees ; and no one knows how it might have ended had not Ingebjorg rushed between with the infant in her arms. Do not bring ruin upon us ! " she shrieked. A while later Ingebjorg sat in the family- room ; Thorbjorn was dressing; the father was pacing the floor once more, and only paused now and then to drink a little water, but his hand shook so that the water flew over his head and splashed on the floor. Aslak did not come in, and presently Ingebjorg made a movement to go out. " Stay in," said Saemund, as though it were not to her he was speaking ; and she stayed in. But a little later he went out him- self. He did not come in again. Thorbjorn took his book and read incessantly, without looking up, although he did not understand a single sentence. A little later in the forenoon the house was in the old order, although every one had a feel- ing as though strangers had been visiting them. Thorbjorn ventured to go out, and the first per- son he met outside the door was Aslak, who had packed all his things on a sled; but the sled 44 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. was Tliorbjorn's. Thorbjorn stared at him; for lie looked ugly. The blood had dried on his face, and was smeared all over ; he coughed and clutched often at his breast. He looked for a moment silently at Thorbjorn, and then he burst out violently, — " I do not like your eyes, boy ! " With this he got astride of the sled, seated himself, and started down the hill. You can get your sled back where you can find it ! " said he, and laughed, as he turned once more and stuck out his tongue at him. Thus departed Aslak. But during the week that followed the lens- mand ^ made his appearance at the house ; the father was sometimes absent ; the mother wept, and she also was away several times. " What is it, mother ? " " Oh, Aslak is the cause of it all ! " One day they caught little Ingrid, as she sat and sang : — *'0 blessed world, I am weary Now of thy doings so dreary ! Once the girl puts foot in sight, Reason leaves the boy outright ; Wat'ry food the housewife makes, Ease her lazy husband takes ; Puss beyond the rest is keen and wily, For cream she 's stealing so slyly." ^ 1 Bailiff. 2 Auber Forestier's translation. SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 45 There was of course a query as to whom she could have learned this snatch of a song from. As was expected, it proved to be from Thor- bjorn. He became much alarmed, and said he had learned it from Aslak. He was then made to understand that if he sang any more such verses himself, or taught them to his sister, he would get a whipping. Shortly after this lit- tle Ingrid happened to swear. Thorbjorn was again called up, and Saemund thought he might as well give him a taste of the rod now ; but he cried and made such fair promises for himself that he was allowed to escape this time. The next Sunday there was service, his father Baid to him, " You will not have any chance to get into mischief at home to-day; you are going with me to church." CHAPTER IT. The church stands, in the peasant's fancy, on a lofty eminence, apart by itself, consecrated to peace, with the solemnity of the grave about it, and the cheerfulness of the mass within. It is the sole house in the valley upon which he has bestowed any ornamentation, and its spire, there- fore, actually reaches up a little farther than it appears to reach. Its bells greet him on his way thither, of a bright Sunday morning, and he always uncovers his head to them, as though he would return with thanks their greeting! There is a covenant between him and them which no one can fully estimate. Early in life he doubtless stood by the open door and heark- ened to them, while the church people moved past in silent procession down on the road ; his father was getting ready, but he himself was too small to go. He combined then many ideas with those heavy, sonorous tones which reigned supreme among the mountains for an hour or two, reechoing from one to the other ; but one was inseparably connected therewith : SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 47 clean, new clothes, gay-clad women, and well- groomed horses, with bright harnesses. And when these bells ring thus one Sunday over his own happiness ; when in brand-new, but too large, clothes he walks with dignified assurance by his father's side, on his way to church for the first time, aye, then there is ex- ultation in them. Then, surely, they can fling open all the doors to what he is going to see. And on the way home, when they still keep up their clanging over his head, rocking the sing- ing, the mass, the words of the sermon, in their reverberations, there is chased back and forth what engrossed the eye during the service, — the altar-piece, the costumes, the people ; then, once for all, they arch over the previously gath- ered impressions, and consecrate the smaller church which henceforth he bears within him. When a little older, he has to tend the herds on the mountains, but of a fine, dewy Sunday morning, as he sits on the stone, with the cattle below him, and listens to the church-bells rising above the tinkle of their bells, he grows melan- choly. For there rings through them some- thing bright, cheerful, alluring, from down be- low : thoughts of acquaintances at church ; of the joy when one is there, and the still greater joy, when one has been there, of the good dinner 48 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. at home; of father, mother, brothers, and sis- ters ; of the merriment on the green in the ghid Sunday evening, — and the little heart rebels within his breast. But it always ends with the thought that those were the church-bells that were ringing. He reflects a little, and finds stored away in his mind a fragment of some hymn he has learned ; this he sings, hands folded, and eyes peering far down into the valley below, repeats a little prayer, besides, springs up, feels happy, and blows such a blast on his loor that it resounds through the mount- ains. Here in the little mountain valley the church has its special language for each age, its peculiar look to each eye ; much may have been built up between the individual and it, but never any- thing over it. It stands full-grown and ready, in the eyes of the candidate for confirmation, with finger pointing upward, half threatening, half inviting, for the youth whose choice is made ; broad-shouldered and strong over the sorrows of manhood ; with plenty of room and full of tenderness for weary old age. During divine service, young children are brought in and baptized, and it is well known that during this act the devotion is greatest. Therefore, it is impossible to describe Norse SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 49 peasants, corrupted or uncorrupted, without coming into contact at one point or other with the church. There will seem to be a dull uni- formity in this ; but it is, perhaps, not of the worst sort. Let this be said once for all, and not especially on account of the church visit which here follows. Thorbjorn rejoiced at the thought of the walk to church and the sights he was to see ; his eyes were dazzled with the manifold colors without the church ; he felt the weight of the stillness which hung over everybody and every- thing within before the mass began ; and al- though he did not remember to bow his head himself when the prayer was read, it seemed as though it were bowed by the sight of many hun- dred bowed heads. The singing began, and all sang at once around him, so that it almost ap- palled him. So absorbed did he sit there that he started up as from a dream when their pew door was softly opened for some one who came in. After the singing was over the father took this new-comer by the hand, and asked, — " Is all well at Solbakken ? " Thorbjorn raised his eyes ; but whatever he saw, or did not see, there was little connection to be traced between this man and any kind of witchcraft. He was a gentle-looking, fair-com- 4 50 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. plexioned man, with large blue eyes, a liigh brow, and he looked tall in his seat ; he smiled when he was spoken to, and said " yes " to every remark Saemund made, but was, on the whole, a man of few words. " If you look over there you will see Syn- nove," said the father, as he stooped down to Thorbjorn, took him on his knee, and pointed over to the pew opposite, on the women's side. There was a little girl kneeling on the bench and looking over the railing. She was still fairer than the man, — so fair that he had never seen her equal. She had a red streamer to her cap, light yellow hair beneath this, and now smiled at him, so that for a long time he could not see anything but her white teeth. She held a shining hymn-book in one hand, and a folded orange-colored silk handkerchief in the other, and was now amusing herself by strik- ing the handkerchief on the hymn-book. The more he stared, the more she smiled ; and now he chose also to kneel on the bench, just as she was doing. Then she nodded. He looked gravely at her a moment, then he nodded. She smiled and nodded once more , he nodded again, and once more, and still once more. She smiled, but did not nod any more, for a little while, until he had quite forgotten it , then she nod* ded. SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 61 I want to see, too ! " he heard behind him, and at the same moment felt some one pull him by the legs to the floor, so that he came near falling ; it was a thick-set little fellow, who now scrambled valiantly up into Thorbjorn's place. He, too, had light, but bristling hair, and a snub-nose. Aslak had probably taught Thor- bjorn how the bad boys he met at church and school should be dealt with. Thorbjorn there- fore pinched the boy in return so hard that he wanted to scream, but did not, and crawled in- stead very quickly down from the bench, and seized Thorbjorn by both ears. The latter made a grab at his hair, and pulled him down under himself ; still the boy did not scream, but bit Thorbjorn in the thigh. Thorbjorn drew it back, and dashed the boy's face right against the floor. Then he was himself seized by the jacket-collar, and lifted up as though he were a bag full of straw ; it was his father, who took Thorbjorn on his lap. "If it were not in church, you would get a thrashing ! " he whispered in his ear, and squeezed his hand so that it hurt clear down in his foot. He remembered Synnove, and looked over at her ; she was still there on her knees, but was staring before her with such a vacant look that he began to realize what he had dune, UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY 52 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. and that it must be sometliing very wrong. As soon as she noticed that he was looking at her she crept down from the bench, and was no more to be seen. The chorister came forward, and then the priest ; he listened to and watched them closely Again the chorister came forward, and again the priest ; but still he sat on his father's knee, and thought, " Will she not soon look up again ? ' The little fellow who had dragged him down from the bench sat on a foot-stool, farther up in the pew, and every time he wanted to rise he got a thrust in the back from an oM per son, who sat and nodded, but awakened regu- larly every time the child made a move to rise. Will she not soon look up again ? " thought Thorbjorn ; and every red ribbon he saw stir ring round about reminded him of the one she wore, and every flashy painting in the old church was either just as large as, or a little smaller than, she. Yes, now she stretched up her head; but as soon as she saw him she gravely drew it down again. Once more the chorister came forward, and once more the priest ; the bell was rung, and every one arose. The father talked again in a low tone to the fair-complexioned man ; they went together over to the pew where the women were, who SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 63 had already arisen. Tlie first person who came out from there was a fair-complexioned woman, who smiled as the man did, but more faintly ; she was rather small and pale, and held Syn- nove by the hand. Thorbjorn went right over to the latter ; but she went quickly away from Lim, round her mother's dress. Let me alone ! " said she. This little boy has never been at church before," said the fair woman, and laid her hand on him. " No, and that is the reason why he got to fighting the first time," said Saemund. Thorbjorn looked bashfully up at her, and then at Synnove, who seemed to him graver than ever. They all went out, — the older ones in conversation, but Thorbjorn following Synnove, who drew closer to her mother whenever he ap- proached her. The other boy he saw no more. Outside of the church they paused, and began a longer conversation. Thorbjorn several times heard Aslak named, and as he feared they might talk a little about him also, at the same time, he vetreated a few steps. ^'This is not for you to hear! "said Synnove's another to her. " Go away a little, my dear; go away, I say." Synnove drew lingeringly back. Thoibjorn 54 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. then went nearer her, and looked at her, and she looked at him ; and thus they stood for a long while, just looking at each other. Finally she said, — " Fy ! " " Why do you say fy ? " asked he. " Fy ! " said she once more. " Fy ! For shame ! " she added. Why, what have I done ? " "You have been fighting in church, and while the priest stood there saying mass. Fy ! " " Yes, but that was a long time ago." This mdde an impression on her, and she said presently, — " Are you the boy whose name is Thorbjorn Granliden?" " Yes ; and is it you they call Synnove Sol- bakken ? " Yes. I have always heard that you were such a good boy." " No, that is not true , for I am the worst one of all of us at home," said Thorbjorn. "Well, I have never heard" — said Synnove, and clasped her small hands. " Mother, mother ! he says " — "Hush ! Be quiet, and go away ! " met her horn that quarter, and she paused, then went slowly and backwards to her place, her large blue eyes fixed on her mother. SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 65 " I have always heard that you were good," said Thorbjorn. Yes, that may be sometimes when I have been reading," she replied. " Is it true that you have such a lot of nisses and trolls and other bad things over your way ? " asked he, placing his hands on his sides, with one foot thrust forward, and resting on the other, just as he had seen Aslak do. " Mother, mother ! Do you know what he says ? He says " — Let me alone ! Do you hear ? And do not come here before I call you ! " She had to retreat again, slowly and back- v/ards ; as she did so she put a corner of her handkerchief in her mouth, bit it hard, and pulled at it. Is it not true at all that every night there is music inside of the hills over there ? " No ! " Have you never seen trolls, then ? " " No ! " " But, in the name of Jesus " — Fy ! You must not say that ! " Oh, pshaw ! — that is nothing ! " said he, spitting between his teeth to show how far he could spit. Yes, it is," she replied ; " for if you talk so vou will go to helL" 56 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. " Do you think so ? " asked he, decidedly more humble ; for he had only thought that he might get a whipping for it, and his father was now standing so far away. Who, for in- stance, is the strongest over your way?" asked he, and pushed his cap a little more to one side. I am sure I do not know." " Well, over our way it is father. He is so strong that he thrashes Aslak ; and Aslak is strong, I can tell you." Ah, indeed ! " Once he lifted a horse." ''A horse?" Yes ; that is as true, as true — for hp told me so himself." Then she could have no doubts, either. " Who is Aslak ? " asked she. " He is a very bad boy, I can assure you. Father whipped him so hard that in the whole world there never was any one whipped so hard before." Do you figbt over there at your house ? " Yes, sometimes, when — Do not you do BO over at your house ? " " No, never." What do you do there, then ? " Oh, mother gets the meals ready, knits, and SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 57 sews ; Kari does these things, too, but not as well as mother, for Kari is so lazy. But Randi takes care of the cows ; father and the boys work out in the field, or else keep busy at home." This seemed to him a satisfactory explanation. "Then every evening we read and we sing," she continued, and we do so on Sundays, too." " All of you ? " " Yes." " That must be tedious." " Tedious ? Mother, he says " — but then she remembered that it was forbidden her to bother her mother. " Oh, you had better be- lieve I own ever so many sheep," said she. Do you ? " "Yes. Three of them are going to have lambs this winter, and one of them, I am quite sure, will have two." " And so you have sheep, have you ? " " Yes ; and I have cows and pigs, too. Have you none ? " " No." " If you will come over to see me, you shall have a lamb. Then you will surely get more {rom it." " That would be too nice for anything." They were silent for a while. " Cannot In- grid have a lamb, too ? " asked he. 58 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. " Who is Ingrid?" Why, Ingrid, — little Ingrid." No, she did not know her. " Is she smaller than you ? " Yes, of course she is smaller than I, — y\3t about like you." Oh, dear me ! You must bring her along do you hear? " Yes, he would do so. But," said she, " if t/ou get a lamb, she can have a pig." This he, too, thought was far wiser; and then they talked a little about their common ac- quaintances, of whom, to be sure, they had not many. Their parents were now ready, and they must go home. That night he dreamed about Solbakken, and he thought he saw only white lambs over there, and a little fair girl with red ribbons in the midst of them. Ingrid and he talked every single day about going to Solbakken. They had so many lambs and little pigs to tend that they knew not which way to turn among them. Meanwhile, they wondered greatly that they could not go over there at once. " Just because that little girl asked you ? " «aid the mother. " Did you ever hear the like ! ' Never mind; you just wait till the next SYKNOVE SOLEAKKEN. 59 Sunday there is service," thought Thorbjorn, " and then you shall see.'* It came. " You are said to be so bad about boasting and lying and swearing," said Synnove to him, " that you cannot be allowed to come until you have stopped your bad habits." " Who says so? " asked Thorbjorn, surprised. " Mother." Ingrid waited in suspense for his coming home, and he told her and the mother what bad happened. " Now you see ! " said the mother. Ingrid said nothing ; but after this both she and the mother reminded him every time he swore or boasted. Ingrid and he, meanwhile, fell into a quarrel about whether " the dog take me " was swearing or not. Ingrid got a whipping, and after that he kept using ''the dog take me" the whole day. But toward evening his father heard it. '' Yes, he shall take you ! " said he, and gave him a blow that sent him reeling. Thorbjorn felt most ashamed before Ingrid, but after a little while she came over to him and patted him. A few months later they both made a visit to Solbakken ; Synnove afterward came to visit ihem; they over to Solbakken again; and thus 60 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. it continued all the while they were growing up. Thorbjorn and Synnove were rivals in their studies ; they went to the same school, and he became at last the more clever scholar of the two, — so clever that the priest interested him- self in him. Ingrid did not get on so well ; and both the others therefore helped her. She and Synnove became so inseparable that people called them the " ptarmigans," because they always flew together, and both had very fair hair and complexions. It happened, occasionally, that Synnove got angry with Thorbjorn, because he was so ex- citable and fell into so many squabbles. Ingrid always acted as peacemaker, and then they be- came good friends again as before. But if Syn- nove's mother heard of his fighting, he was not allowed to come to Solbakken that week, and hardly the next. No one dared tell Saemund anything about such things ; he is so severe wdth the lad," said his wife, and imposed silence upon all. As they grew up, all three became good-look- ing, although each in his own way. Synnove grew tall and slender, had flaxen hair, a finely moulded, bright face, with calm blue eyes. When she spoke, she smiled, and people soon caid it was a blessing to come within the atmos* SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 61 phere of her smiles. Ingrid was smaller, but Btouter, had still lighter hair, and a very little face that was soft and round. Thorbjorn be- came of medium height, but was extremely well formed, had dark hair, dark blue eyes, a sharply cut face, and strong limbs. He had a habit of saying of himself, when he was angry, that he could read and write just as well as the school- master, and feared no man in the valley, — ex- cept his father, he thought, but he did not add that. Thorbjorn wished to be confirmed early ; but that could not be. " As long as you are not confirmed you are only a boy, and I can better control you ! " said his father. So it chanced that he, Synnove, and Ingrid went to the priest at the same time. Synnove, too, had waited un usually long ; she was fifteen, in her sixteenth year. " We never can know enough when we come to make our confirmation vow," her mother had always said ; and her father, Gut- torm Solbakken, had answered " yes " to this. So it was not strange that a couple of suitors began to put in an appearance : one the son of people of the better class, another a rich neigh- bor. " It is too bad ! She is not yet confirmed ! " " Well, then, we must have her confirmed,^* 62 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. said the father. But Synnove herself knew nothing of this. At the parsonage, the ladies of the priest's family thought so well of Synnove that they in- vited her in, to talk with her. Ingrid and Thor- bjorn waited outside among the rest, and when a boy said to the latter, So you did not get in with her ? They are surely going to take her away from you ! " it cost that boy a black eye. From this tiuie forth, it got to be a habit among the other boys to tease him about Synnove, and it became apparent that nothing could throw him into a greater rage. In a grove below the parsonage there took place, at last, by agree- ment, a big fight, which had this teasing for its cause ; the fight had grown to such an extent that Thorbjorn had to deal with a whole crowd at once. The girls had gone on in advance, so there was no one to part them, and the fight grew, therefore, worse and worse. He did not want to give up ; several attacked him at once, and so he defended himself as best he could, and the blows he dealt about him betrayed afterwards what had taken place. The cause came out at the same time, and it made a great deal of talk in the parish. The next Sunday there was service Thor- bjorn would not go to church; and the next day SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 63 they were to go to the priest he feigned illness. And so Ingrid went alone. He asked her, on her return home, what Synnove had said. " Nothing." When he joined the others again, he thought that every one looked at him, and that the rest of the class giggled. But Synnove came later than the others, and passed much time with the priest's family that day. He feared a scolding from the priest, but soon became aware that the only two in the parish who knew nothing of the fight were his own father and the priest. This matter was not so bad, after all ; but how he should gain access to Synnove again, he knew not, for it was the first time that he did not really like to ask Ingrid to intercede. After the recitation was over, Synnove was again in at the priest's ; he waited as long as there was any one else in the grounds, but at last he too had to go. Ingrid had gone among the first. The next day, Synnove had come before all the others, and was walking in the garden with one of the young ladies and a young gentleman. The young lady took up some flowering plants, and gave them to Synnove ; the gentleman as- sisted ; and Thorbjorn stood among the rest outside, and looked on. They explained to her quite loud, so they all heard it, how these plants 64 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. were to be set out, and Synnove promised to attend to thera herself, that everything might be just as they said. " You cannot do it alone," said the gentleman, and Thorbjorn pondered over this. When Synnove came out to the oth- ers, they showed far more respect for her than usual, but Synnove went over to Ingrid, greeted her gently, and asked her to accompany her down to the green. There they seated them- selves, for it was long since they had had a good talk together. Thorbjorn again was left with the others, and looked at Synnove's pretty, strange flowers. That day Synnove went at the same time as the rest. " May I carry your flowers for you ? " said Thorbjorn. " Yes, if you like," she answered, kindly, but without looking at him, and taking Ingrid by the hand, went on ahead. At the foot of Sol- bakken she paused, and bade Ingrid farewell. I can carry them myself the short distance that remains," said she, and took up the basket Thorbjorn had set down. The whole way he had been thinking about offering to plant the flowers for her, but now he could not muster the courage, for she turned away so abruptly. But afterwards he thought of nothing else ex- cept that he, still, ought to have helped her with those flowers. SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 65 What were you two talking about?" he asked Ingrid. About nothing." When the rest were well in bed, he quietly- dressed himself again and went out. It was a beautiful evening, balmy and still ; the sky was faintly overcast with bluish-gray clouds, here and there torn asunder, so that it seemed as though some one might be peering out from the dark blue as from an eye. No one was to be seen about the houses or farther away ; but the grasshoppers were chirping all through the grass, a rail piping on the right was an- swered on the left, and then there began a singing in the grass from place to place, so that it seemed to the wanderer as though he were attended by a large company of followers, al- though he did not see a single one. The forest stretched upwards, now blue, now dark and still darker toward the rocky waste, and looked like a great sea of mist. But through this he heard the heath-cock strike up its note, a single owl shriek, and the force chant its old, vigorous rhymes louder than ever, now that all had set- tled down to give ear thereto. Thorbjorn looked over toward Solbakken, and went on- ward. He turned off from the usual path, quickly reached the gard, and very soon stood 5 66 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. in the little garden tliat belonged to Synnove, and that lay directly beneath the one loft whi- dow he knew so well, that of the chamber in which she slept. He listened and peered around, but all was still. Then he searched about the garden for working implements, and sure enough there he found both spade and hoe. The spading of a bed had been commenced ; only a small corner was finished, but in it two plants were already set out, probably to see how they looked. She became tired, poor girl, and left it," he thought. " It takes a man to do this," he thought further, and set to work. He did not feel the slightest desire for sleep; indeed, it even seemed to him that he had never performed so easy a task. He remembered how they were to be set out, remembered also the parsonage garden, and planted them accord- ingly. Night passed away, but he was not aware of it ; he scarcely paused to rest, and had the whole bed spaded, the flowers set out, one here and there planted over again to give a better effect, and ever and anon he would steal a glance up at the chamber window to see whether any one was watching him. But neither there nor elsewhere was any one to be seen, nor did he hear so much as the barking of a dog before the cock began to crow, awaken SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 67 iiig the forest birds, who then, one after another, piped up their good-morning " song. While he stood there patting down the earth around, the bed, he thought of the tales Aslak had told him, and how once he had believed that trolls and nisses grew over at Solbakken. He looked up at Synnove's window, and smiled, as he wondered what she would think now in the morning hour. It had become pretty light, the birds were already making a terrible racket, and so he leaped over the fence and hastened home. No one should be able to say that it was he who had been there and set out flowers in Synnove Solbakken's garden. CHAPTER III. Soon all kinds of things were said in the parish ; but no one knew anything with cer- tainty. Thorbjorn was not seen any more at Solbakken after he and Synnove were confirmed, and this was what people could least under- stand. Ingrid often went over there ; Synnove and she would then usually take a walk in the wood. " Do not stay away too long ! " the mother would call after them. " Oh, no," Synnove would answer, and not come home before the dusk of the evening. The two suitors presented themselves anew. " She will have to attend to the matter herself," said the mother ; the father thought the same. But when Synnove was taken aside and questioned, they were rejected. Then several others made their appearance, but no one heard that they brought good luck home with them from Solbakken. Once, when her mother and she stood scouring some wooden milk-pans, the mother asked whom it was she was really thinking about. The question came so suddenly upon her that she blushed. " HavQ SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 69 you given any one a promise ? " the mother asked, and fixed her eyes on her. " No," an- swered Synnove, promptly. There was noth- ing further said upon the subject. As she was the best match in the parish, she was followed by eager eyes when she ap- peared at church, the only place where she was to be seen outside of her own home; that is to say, she was never found at any dance or other merry-making, because her parents were Haugians. Thorbjorn sat directly opposite her at church, but they never talked together, so far as people could observe. Nevertheless, each and every one felt assured that there must be something between them ; and as they did not go about together in the same way as other young lovers in the valley, there began to be a great deal of talk. Thorbjorn did not seem to be much liked. He probably felt this himself ; for he was pretty rough in his conduct when several were together, as, for example, at dances and weddings; and so it happened that now and then he would rush into a fight. There came a lull, however, after several had learned how strong he was ; and so Thorbjorn early formed the habit not to brook having any one stand the least in his way. " You are now re- sponsible to yourself alone," said Sasmund, his 70 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. father ; "but you will do well to remember that perhaps I am stronger than you." Autumn and winter passed away; spring came, and still people knew nothing definite. There were circulated so many rumors con- cerning the refusals Synnove had given that her company almost ceased to be sought. But Ingrid was her constant companion. They two were to go together to the saeter^ this year, the Solbakken family having purchased a share in the Granlid sseter. Thorbjorn was heard singing up in the mountains, for he was get- ting ready one thing and another for them. One beautiful day, when it was already draw- ing toward evening, and his work was done, he sat down to think matters over. His thoughts probably dwelt chiefly upon w^hat was being talked of in the parish. He laid himself on his back in the red and brown heather, and with hands under his head he fell to gazing up at the sky, which moved so blue and glittering above the dense tree-tops. The green leaves and pine needles flowed out over it in a quiver- ing stream, and the dark branches which cut through this made strange, wild designs therein. But the sky itself could only be seen when a leaf was wafted aside; farther away, through 1 The mountain pasture. SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 71 the tree-tops, which did not touch one another, it burst forth like a broad river, in whimsical oscillations, and flowed over. This attuned his mood, and he began to think of what he saw. The birch laughed again, with its thousand eyes, up at the spruce ; the fir stood there with silent contempt, its spikes bristling on every side, for as the breeze gradually became more caressing, more and more of the saplings quick- ened, darted upward, and thrust their fresh foli- age right under the nose of the fir. Where were you, I wonder, last winter? " inquired the fir, waving to and fro, and perspiring rosin, in an intolerable heat. " This is almost too bad ! — so far to the north. Whew ! " But then there was an old, gray, bald fir, that, toAvering above all the others, could still reach down a many-fingered branch, almost perpen- dicularly, and seize a courageous linden by its topmost poll, and make it shiver clear down to its knees. This fathom-thick fir had had its branches lopped by man, higher and higher up, until at last, weary and disgusted, it suddenly shot so far upward that the slender spruce at its side became frightened, and asked whether it, too, remembered winter's storms. " Do I remember them ? " said the fir, and V^ith the aid of the north wind boxed the 72 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. spruce's ears so smartly that it was not far from losing its balance, and that was bad enougb. The large-limbed, dusky-hued fir had now planted such a mighty foot in the ground that its toes stuck out at least six yards off, and were even thicker than the thickest part of the willow, as the latter shyly whispered, one even- ing, to the love-sick hop-vine that twined it- self up over it. The bearded fir was conscious of its power, and said to man, as far beyond his reach it put forth branch after branch, " Strip me if you can ! " " No, they cannot strip you ! " said the eagle, as he graciously alighted on the fir, folded his wings with dignity, and brushed some miserable sheep's blood off his feathers. I really think I shall ask the queen to settle here ; she has some eggs she must lay," he added more softly, and looked down at his bald legs ; for he was ashamed because there came rushing over him a quantity of tender memories of those earliest spring days, during which one is apt to become rather foolish with the first warmth of the sun. Soon he raised his head again, and gazed from beneath his feather-shaded brows up into the dark mountain waste, in order to see whether the queen, egg-laden and suffering, might not be sailing about there. Off he then flew, and SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 73 the fir could soon see the pair far away toward the clear, blue ether, where they were sailing as high as the loftiest mountain peak, and were discussing their household concerns. It cannot be denied that the fir was a trifle anxious ; for, proud though it felt, it would be still prouder to get a brace of young eagles to cradle. The pair came down, and directly to it. They did not speak to each other, but set right to work to fetch twigs. The fir expanded, if possible, more than ever; nor was there any one who could hinder it from doing this. But through the rest of the forest there was a busy chatter, when it was seen what honor had been bestowed on the great fir. Thus there was a small, comely birch that stood mirroring itself in a pond, and thought it had a right to expect a little love from a gray wagtail that was in the habit of taking a noonday nap on its branches. It had buried the wagtail in fra- grance clear up to its beak; it had covered its leaves with insects, so that they were easy enough to catch ; nay, finally it had, in the heat, built and bent together a well-sheltered little house of twigs, thatched with fresh leaves, so that the wagtail really was about to establish it- self there for the summer. Now, however, the eagle had taken up his abode in the great fir, 74 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. and off it must go. Here, indeed, was sorrow! It trilled out a parting song, but very softly, that the eagle might not notice it. Some small sparrows, in the alder bush yon- der, did not fare much better. They had kept up such a clatter that a thrush, up in an ash hard by, had never got to sleep at the right time, had become furiously angry sometimes, and had made a fuss. A solemn woodpecker in the neighboring tree had laughed until it had almost lost its footing. But then the eagle was seen in the great fir ! and the thrush and the little sparrows and the woodpecker, and every creature that had wings, must be off in a great hurry, over and under the branches. The thrush had sworn, as he flew away, that he would never again take a house where he had sparrows for neighbors. So the whole forest stood there, forsaken, and musing amidst the cheerful sunshine. It was to have all its joy in the great fir, but that was a poor joy. The forest bowed down anxiously every time the north wind stirred, the great fir beat the air with its mighty branches, and the eagle flew in a circle around it, calm and com- posed, as though this were merely a creeping puff of wind, that was bearing upward some paltry perfumes from the forest. But the whole SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 75 fir family was glad. Not one remembered that it would get no nest to rock this year. Away ! " said the fir-trees , " we are of the same family. ' " What are you lying there and thinking about?" asked Ingrid, who smilingly advanced from between some shrubs she was bending aside. Thorbjorn started up. " Oh, so many things can play in one's mind," said he, and gazed defiantly over the trees. " Besides, there is so much talk in the parish, in these days," he added, as he brushed some dust from his clolhes. " Why do you always trouble yourself so much about what people say ? " " Oh, I do not know, exactly ; but — people have never yet said anything that was not in my mind, whether it was in my actions or not." " That is a naughty thing to say." " So it is," said he. Presently he added, But it is true." She sat down on the greensward ; he stood with his eyes fixed on the ground, " I can easily become what they want me to be ; they had better let me be as I am." Then it really is your own fault, after all.'^ 76 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. " That may be, but the rest have a share in it. I tell you, I want peace ! " he almost shouted, and looked up at the eagle, " Why, Thorbjorn ! " whispered Ingrid. He turned toward her, and laughed- ''Hush! hush!" said he. ''As I told you, many things can play in one's mind. Have you spoken with Synnove to-day ? " " Yes. She has already gone to the saeter." '' To-day ? " '' Yes." " With the Solbakken cattle ? " " Yes." «*Tralala! The sun does his tree afar behold, Triumlire! * Art thou there, O thou, my own ghttering goid ? ' Triumht, triumling! Wakes the bird, with a spring.