Read Ebook: Inger Johanne's lively doings by Zwilgmeyer Dikken Young Florence Liley Illustrator Poulsson Emilie Translator
Font size: Background color: Text color: Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev PageEbook has 826 lines and 31320 words, and 17 pagesThe 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. I did not scream, but I must own that I wasn't at all comfortable. However, this was no time for any long meditation. Cavallius' little legs straddled over the high doorsill, and now his whole body was in the loft. There was only one door, the door by which he had entered; our "peep-hole" was the only window. Not a word was exchanged between Massa and me, but with a common impulse, we sprang over to the trap-door in the corner through which the hay was thrown down into the stable below. Plump! Massa was down. Plump! I was down. Both of us landed on a big heap of hay that lay just under the trap-door. I glanced up to see whether Cavallius were coming down the way we did, but I saw nothing of him. We rushed to the stable door, out to the Peckells' courtyard, out to the street, but not even here dared we stop. The safest place at that moment seemed to us to be the dean's garden, so in there we dashed, fastening the high garden gate after us. There! Out of danger! Massa was chalk-white with terror. Looking through the picket fence a moment after, we saw Cavallius with more than usual dignity come out of Peckells' yard and disappear through Stiansen's gate. But how in the world Cavallius, a perfect stranger in the town, found the way all by himself up to Peckells' hayloft that day, will always remain a mystery to me. FOOTNOTES: MADAM IGLAND'S GARDEN Madam Igland has an enormous garden with a high board fence around it. To call it a beautiful garden would be a sin and a shame. The whole place is filled with beds of carrots, parsley, cabbages, onions and such things; while at one end there is a row of currant-bushes and an old tumble-down summer-house that stands with one side on the street. Madam Igland is a market-gardener, you see, and sells vegetables to the townsfolk. However, I say wrong when I say she is a gardener, for she can't even walk, but sits all day long in a wheel-chair by the window. She has a "spy-mirror" there which reflects a part of the street she could not see otherwise. No, it is not Madam Igland, it is Oline, who is really the gardener and the ruler over the garden. Oline is an old servant, awfully old and with only one tooth in her mouth; but that one is frightfully long and white. I used to think that if I were in Oline's place, I should have that tooth pulled out, for I thought that, being so very long, it must be in the way. Once I asked Oline why she didn't do that. "No, indeed, I sha'n't do that," said Oline. "For if I hadn't that tooth, I couldn't nourish myself." Since that time I have looked at it with more respect, considering it is all that keeps Oline alive. Oline is frightfully deaf, yet it is she who sells the garden stuff to people. All the money she gets for parsley, onions, or anything, she puts in an enormous pocket which she wears under the front of her apron. Ola Silnes helps her in the garden. He always wears filthy white canvas trousers and jacket, has a very red face, and when he talks, grunts out something you can hardly understand from deep down in his throat. All through the long summer day, Oline with her bare, brown weather-beaten legs is in the carrot-bed weeding. If you want five cents' worth of onion tops, or anything, you have to go right up to her and take hold of her, for she doesn't hear a thing. But I can tell you it isn't advisable to steal into the garden when you don't want to buy anything, for that makes her fly into a rage. The board fence isn't altogether tight at the back of the garden. There are little cracks between the boards, just big enough to stick your nose through and look in with one eye at a time; but through the cracks you can see lots of big, delicious-looking currants. O dear! There's no pleasure in standing and looking through a crack at big, juicy, red currants when you can't get any of them. Our currants were gone long ago. Karsten eats them when they are a little red on one side, and the few that are left shrivel up in the roasting hot sun; for our garden is awfully sunny, you see. But Madam Igland's garden, being on lower ground, is always cool and fresh, with a sweetish, spicy smell of cabbage and herbs and onion and newly-turned soil, and stiff, tall grasses in the outer corners of the garden. I had long known that there was a loose board in the fence,--well, not entirely loose, but very shaky, you know. If you should just pull a little hard on it, it would come loose, that was certain. One afternoon Mina and I hadn't a thing to do. We couldn't play up on the hilltop, it was so unbearably hot there. To play ball in such heat was utterly impossible; besides, Karsten had lost our best ball. The flat church steps which are so exactly suitable for playing jackstones on, and where Mina and I play almost every afternoon, were packed full of street boys who were playing with buttons. Pshaw! There wasn't a thing for us to do. All at once, something flashed into my mind. Mina agreed instantly. Soon we stood with our noses through the cracks. My! so big as those currants were to-day, currants had surely never been before! And oh, how ripe! The branches were so full that they drooped right down to the ground. Ola Silnes was nowhere to be seen. Oline was in the carrot-bed weeding. On her head she had a towel, pulled far forward to keep the sun off of her face. "Oh, Mina! Do you know there is a board loose over there?" I went to it to show her. Yes, it was very, very shaky; almost ready to come out. "Mina, shall we pull the board away and creep through and eat a few currants? Oline can't hear even a gun-shot, you know." First a slight jerk at the board, then a longer pull; it creaked a little and we peeped in, frightened. Oline's toweled head had not moved. She was still weeding in the burning hot sun. "Come on, now." I was already in the garden. Mina came quickly after. We ran along beside the fence, hopped through some cabbage-beds, and got behind the currant-bushes. My, but those were currants! There were as many as fourteen on each string. How we did eat and eat! Our mouths really felt sore at last from eating so many. Now and then we peeped out at Oline, who still stayed among the carrots, weeding and weeding. "Can you understand how she can keep on in such heat?" said Mina. "No, I can't; but my, haven't we had a jolly feast? It doesn't show a bit that any currants are gone, and think what a quantity we have eaten!" Neither of us could eat another one. All at once we heard a shout outside the fence and some one called, "Well, I declare! Is this where you are?" It was Karsten. We looked anxiously along the fence, for at first we couldn't judge where the sound came from. "Sh! Karsten. Sh!" He was tramping along outside the fence. Evidently he, too, knew about the loose board. He pulled it away, and was half inside the garden when--of all things!--Oline saw him. "Out with you or I'll make you stir your stumps, you scamp, you good-for-nothing!" "Well, some girls are behind the currant-bushes, Oline," shouted Karsten. Oline didn't hear a word he said, but she pushed him out through the hole in the fence. "Somebody is stealing your currants," shouted Karsten from the outside. "Yes, you'll catch it, you scamp." We were on pins and needles, but Oline did not know what he said, of course. There was Karsten outside the fence near where we were crouching. "You'll get paid for this, Inger Johanne, depend upon it. You'll get paid. Shame on you! I shall tell about it at home." And off he ran. Mina and I felt that the prospect was anything but pleasant,--horrid, in fact. Ugh! Ola Silnes came into the garden, and Oline called to him, telling about Karsten. Ola's red face looked very thoughtful. They both went to the fence and inspected the loose board very particularly. Then--who'd have thought it?--Ola Silnes, who evidently carried a lot of big nails in his pocket, took some out and with a big stone for a hammer, whack! whack! he nailed the board fast! Mina and I stared at each other. We were in a pretty fix. We couldn't possibly get out through the gate without being seen, as long as Ola Silnes stayed in the garden. Our only hope was that he might go out on some errand. We crouched there behind the currant-bushes and kept peeping out at Ola. Apparently he had no thought of leaving the garden. He wheeled away one wheelbarrowful of weeds after another, and emptied them out not far from us. We sat with our hearts in our mouths each time until we saw the back of his canvas jacket. Ugh! How afraid we were that he would see us! The time dragged on endlessly. "Come, let's go out," said Mina almost in tears. "It's your fault. You're the one who thought of it. I can't sit here any longer, and I'm so afraid of Ola." 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