Read Ebook: Inger Johanne's lively doings by Zwilgmeyer Dikken Young Florence Liley Illustrator Poulsson Emilie Translator

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 826 lines and 31320 words, and 17 pages

hers have over their cameras.

"Look a little pleasant, now," he said in a coaxing voice as if to a child.

"Look pleasant? At you? Humph! I'd like to catch myself!" Her face was like a thunder-cloud.

"Oh! Oh! I shall split my sides laughing," said Massa. "Oh! Oh!"

"May I ask the ladies up there to indulge us with their absence?" said Cavallius.

Oh! how we laughed! No, it was altogether too amusing for us to be willing to leave. "No, Cavallius, we're not going; do not imagine that we are." Of course we did not dare to say that aloud.

Repeated exhortations to Barbara from Cavallius to look pleasant. Barbara looked, if possible, still more angry, and assured him most positively that if there was anything in the world she would not do, it was to look pleasant "at such a one as you."

Massa and I laughed till we were worn out with it.

"That's right, Barbara," shouted Massa, "look more fierce. Don't give in, Barbara."

"Go away," said Cavallius, shaking his little stumpy hand threateningly towards us. "Go away, ladies; I will not endure this, on my honor I will not. Go!"

Just think, he called us "ladies"! We ducked down behind the window in silent laughter, then we peeped out again. Cavallius kept on threatening us.

"Go, I say!" We ducked down but popped up again the next instant. Cavallius grew more and more angry. We kept popping down and up and laughing continually, but go away we would not, you may be sure.

At last Barbara's picture was ready.

"Well, my girl," said Cavallius, "it isn't my fault that you look like a lion-tamer in your picture."

"What is it I look like?" asked Barbara. "It's your fault if it's a horrid picture."

"That's right, Barbara," called Massa. "Scowl at him. Of course it is his fault."

"Go away!" roared Cavallius up at us.

Barbara drew backward towards the door and bumped into old Mrs. Huus who was just coming in to be photographed. Mrs. Huus wore a brown silk dress, gold brooch, gold chain, gold bracelets, and some quivering golden ornaments in her hair. People in the town said that Mrs. Huus stuffed cotton into her cheeks to fill them out so as to look younger. I don't know whether this is true or not, but Mrs. Huus certainly does speak as if her mouth were full.

Cavallius conducted her most respectfully to a chair, but as he went, he shook his fist threateningly again up towards us in the barn window. Mrs. Huus did not see us, but I noticed that she cast a frightened glance at Cavallius as he shook his fist in the air.

He got down on one knee and arranged the brown silk dress in careful folds. While he knelt there, he turned and again made the threatening gesture towards us. Mrs. Huus sent an anxious look heavenward; evidently she thought he was crazy.

Massa and I tumbled over each other below the window in fits of laughter, although we choked back the noise. Then we heard Cavallius talking, and I put my head up cautiously. Cavallius saw me and threatened again with both fists, but still Mrs. Huus had not seen a sign of us, so to her his angry gestures were unaccountable.

"No, no, no," she said hastily, getting up. "I don't think I am very well. I don't think I care to be photographed to-day." With that she darted, swift as an arrow, out of the gate without even saying good-bye.

I heard later that she had been mortally afraid the few minutes she was in Cavallius' studio, because of his shaking his fists towards heaven, and she thought herself fortunate to have come away unharmed.

When Mrs. Huus was gone, Cavallius, with hands at his side, looked up at us.

"There now, ladies, whose fault was that? Whose fault was it, I ask, that that fine lady would not let herself be photographed to-day? It was your fault. I saw that she looked up at you again and again. As true as my name is Isaiah Cavallius, I won't stand this any longer. If you ladies don't make yourselves scarce this instant,"--again he shook his fist at us,--"I have something that will make you go, I warn you."

Massa and I disappeared from the window quick as lightning.

"We mustn't tease him any more," said Massa. "He's too angry."

"Oh, but it is such fun; so awfully comical."

"Well, I'm scared; suppose he should shoot up here at us."

"Nonsense, Massa. Let's peep out once more."

There were voices in the courtyard again. I put one eye to the window and saw, if you'll believe it, Herman Nibb, the storekeeper, who had come to be photographed. Oh, what fun! That queer Nibb! No, we couldn't go now; it was impossible, with such a prospect of amusement ahead. Cavallius couldn't get hold of us up here, and if he tried, we could run like the wind.

Nibb came into the courtyard, bowing and bowing. He always walks with a dancing step in the street, as if he were on springs. He is surely very vain, for in one day I have seen him wear as many as seven different hats. That is absolutely true. Nibb always has something to do with bankruptcy; either he has just gone bankrupt or is just about to do so. There is never anything in his shop-window but a bunch of shoe-lasts, and he sells only kerosene. Often I should like to go into his shop because he is so queer, but since one can scarcely ask for a sample of shoe-lasts or kerosene, I can't make any errand in there.

"Be so kind as to take a seat," said Cavallius. "Vignette or the whole figure?"

"Is it any dearer with legs than without legs?" asked Nibb.

"The price is the same for the whole figure," was the satisfactory answer.

Nibb placed himself in position. He looked as blank as if he didn't know enough to count four, as he stood there.

"That is a fine expression you have now," said Cavallius. "Don't lose that expression and you will have a beautiful picture; don't lose it. Pshaw! You let it go, after all."

Nibb strove in vain to re-capture the beautiful expression.

"How was it I looked?" he asked.

I can't tell you how Massa and I laughed. "We must go, Massa, or I shall die of laughing." Nevertheless, we did not go.

"Are you there again?" shouted Cavallius. "On my honor, I will not stand this any longer." With that he went into the house, leaving Nibb alone.

Nibb made an elegant bow to us, whom he saw in the loft window.

"Beautiful weather, little girls," he observed politely.

"Oh, yes." We felt as if we were in an oven, it was so hot, and Nibb wiped his forehead every minute.

"Perhaps it is rather temperate," he continued, bowing to us again.

"It wouldn't matter if it were a little more temperate," I said.

Nibb made no reply to this, but remarked, "A queer man, that one," pointing over his shoulder after Cavallius.

Yes, Massa and Nibb and I could all agree as to that.

But what in the world had become of Cavallius? Could he be looking for us?

"O dear! Suppose he is standing inside behind a curtain and shoots us with a gun!" said Massa. "He said he had something that would make us go away, you know."

The situation began to be rather uncomfortable; perhaps we had better go away, notwithstanding the fun. At that instant, we heard a strange, short, labored breathing from the loft stairway. We both turned,--the stairs were just outside the door,--a yellow beard showed in the dim light. True as gospel, it was Cavallius! If I live to be as old as Methusaleh, I shall never forget how terribly Massa shrieked. She shrieked as if beside herself, or as if some one had stuck a knife into her.

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet