Chapter 7 of Lisbeth-Longfrock, Lisbeth-Longfrock by Hans Arnvord, translated by Laura E. Polson Chapter 7, Home from the Sator Summer, with its light nights and brilliant days, comes rapidly to full power on the mountains in Norway. The season is brief but intense. It begins with a creeping of green light over the gentle slopes and unending marshes, and a trickling of light green down around each two or little mound of earth covered with moss and tiny berry plants. Tarmigan's roam about in solitary pairs, murmuring when anyone comes too near to their nests. Nats and horseflies buzz through the air, and cows with tails set straight up, scamper fiscally about, trying to escape the irritating stings.  But soon come the blueberries, the marsh wool or cotton grass, and later the cloud breeze, and on some fine day, when the mother Tarmigans go out to walk, peeping sounds are heard around them, here there and everywhere. The mother birds scald more than ever now that their young ones are whirling like so many feathery balls, a yard or more upward, and two or three yards forward, and then tumbling down into the heather again, head foremost. By this time the cows roam about quietly and meditatively over the mountain, seeking the juiciest best-flavoured herbage to nibble. The warm haze melts away, and the air becomes so sparkingly clear that the mountain peaks miles distant are as delicately and sharply outlined as the nearest little mound. Then the cloud-breed blossoms fall, and soon the marshes go yellow and red. The tiny blossoms of the heather colour all the knolls and rocky places. The greenness vanishes, and over the patches of white reindeer moss, which shine out like snow here and there on the mountain, comes a blush of red and a tinge of brown. Autumn is now drawing near. Much of the time the sun shines brightly, and when it does, how glorious to be the herder of a flock. But there come days also when the fog spreads itself like a close grey blanket, under which the ground, with its mounds and bushes and heather, creeps steadily, disappearing a few yards away. And out of the fog comes a fine mist-like rain, which deposits itself in tiny grey beads on every blade and every pine needle, so that wherever any one goes there is a little sprinkling of water. In such weather it is far from pleasant to be in charge of a flock. If the animals move forward quietly, the herder must seek shelter under every bush, with a piece of sacking over his shoulders to shield him from the wet. But it is far more likely that he will be obliged to run about with the water squeezing in and out of his shoes, trying to keep track of his animals, for in weather like this the mushrooms spring up plentifully, and the animals scatter eagerly in all directions to find them. Scorning other food when these may be obtained. Sometimes when the herder is speeding along the edge of a marsh, a pair of large powerful cranes who are on their journey south will loom suddenly before him out of the fog. This stutters him greatly, for the cranes seem to the herder much larger than they really are. They look like a couple of great sheep with wings on. Later in the season comes a morning when all is glistening white. A little snow has fallen during the night. Not enough to last, however, it melts away as the day goes on. But after this the animals no longer like to go up from the higher parts of the mountain. The chaos stand lowing at the gate of the Sator enclosure. They know that sooner or later they will be allowed to slip in there to enjoy the last of the mountain's good grazing. The goats look inquiringly backward as they are let out of the fold. Summer is over. Everyone longs to go down again to the home farm. At last the day comes when the gate is opened and the cows rush into the Sator enclosure. They know now that they will not have to go up on the bare mountain again this year. Then the farmhands come up with pack horses and other horses that have been running wild in the mountain all summer are found and taken home. The packs are tied up. There is a great washing, a clearing away of rubbish and putting things in order for next summer. And at last Bufa Day the long expected day of returning to the home farm arrives. On Bufa Day, Lisbeth Longfox stood up on the ridge of the turf covered cowhouse roof taking a final look at the surrounding scene. She was all ready for the journey.  In her hand she carried a stout stick. Within the Sator enclosure the cows and smaller animals were roving back and forth from fence to fence impatiently. They knew that Bufa Day had come for along the wall of the Sator hut in a row stood the horses packs filled with butter tumps, cheese tumps and cheese boxes and tied to the fence for the horses themselves. All of these had pack saddles on except the military horse which stood foremost among them bearing a woman's saddle. The farmhands stood outside too smoking their pipes. They were all ready and were only waiting for the milkmaid who was inside the hut making the last batch of cheese from the morning's milk which she could not allow to be wasted. While Lisbeth was standing on the ridge of the cowhouse Allay and Peter came bobbing along past the fence of the fold. They were not so boisterous as usual today and stopped at the gate looking at Lisbeth without saying a word at first. Then Peter asked, are you going back to the farm today Lisbeth? Yes, I'm ready. With one impulse Lisbeth and the boys gazed over the mountain's familiar expanse. The mountain begins to look barren now said Peter but I shall be here a week longer. So long as that said Lisbeth I knew Allay, I am going today after tomorrow. All three were silent again for a while. Then Lisbeth said, I suppose I must go with the others now they must surely be ready. She descended from the roof and went over to where the boys were. The conversation came to a standstill again they could not think of anything to say. Finally Peter spoke, are you coming again next summer Lisbeth? Yes, if Kirsty Hurle is pleased with me but that can hardly be expected since I am going home without cook-corn. It would take a horse trainer's look after her said Allay. Again there were silence. Then Allay said, we did not go up to Glory Peak this summer to see the spot the king once visited. No we didn't.  Perhaps we can go to Glory Peak after all then even if it is so far away. Yes we can said Allay and I can tell you a good deal about the king's visit for my father went with him and drove. Drove the king's carriage? No, not the king's, the county magistrates. My father went with him too said Peter and drove so I can tell you about it as well as you. Yes, but whose carriage did he drive? A homely old woman's. But that homely old woman was next in rank to the queen. She was the one who went off to walk with the queen at the foot of Glory Peak. Just then a call came for Lisbeth. She hesitated a moment and stretched out her little hand and said, Goodbye, may you both fare well. Thanks for the summer. Thanks to you for the same said Allay. We'll meet again then next summer? Yes, may you fare well said Peter. He stood holding her hand a while then thinking he ought to say something more he said. I will greet Jacob from you Lisbeth. After that the boys vanished along the fence as noiselessly as they had come. Inside the satyr enclosure the farmhands were putting the packs on the horses and the military horse had been led to the gate. Lisbeth ran into the enclosure, drove her animals together and countered them, certainly for the tenth time that day. Soon everything stood ready for the homeward march. The milkmaid appeared in the doorway, clad in her Sunday best as on the day she came. She closed the satyr door with a bang, turned the large key solemnly in the lock, took it out and put it in her pocket. That key she would not entrust to anyone else. She wanted to deliver it to Kirstie Hurle with her own hand. After trying the door vigorously to be sure that it was securely locked, she went to the window and looked in to assure herself that everything was in order and the fire entirely out. Then going over to the military horse she climbed into the saddle. One of the farmhands opened the gate for her as if she had been a queen and out she rode. After her followed the pack horses one by one and the cows in the same order as when they came up, the bell cow brindle and the whole long line.  Lisbeth turned and looked at the scene she was leaving. There lay the satyr, desolate now. The mountain too appeared lonely and forsaken. Of course she, like all the others, had longed for home during these last days but it was strange after all for her to be going away from everything up here. A little of the same feeling she had had when leaving Pirat Castle crept over her. How singular that she should happen to recall that sad time just at this moment. She had not thought of it at all since coming up on the mountain, not once during the whole long summer. Nor would she think of it now. There were other and happier things to remember. God be praised all had gone well at the satyr and the whole procession was on its way home. She was taking her animals safely back, all except cookhorn. Of her she had seen nothing since the day when the boys had tried to tame her. But she had heard that far off in the mountain a big goat went about with a herd of horses. All day long the great procession went on its way over the mountain, steady, ploddy fashion. The animals were fatter and heavier than in the spring. They trod the hills with a brisker and firmer step and none showed any signs of being tired or lagging behind. The milkmaid was rosy-cheeked and plump. Butterpacks she was always called in the autumn. As she and Lisbeth looked at the procession, one from the front and the other from the rear, they agreed in thinking that the animals as well as the butter and cheese were such as they need not be ashamed to take home to Kirste Hall. Evening was drawing near when suddenly the road pitched down over the edge of the mountain the valley began to open before them and they could even catch a glimpse of the slope on the other side. Everyone looked over there but all that could be seen as yet was a strip along the uppermost edge. The only one to distinguish a house upon the strip was Lisbeth Longfock. Away up and over to one side she saw the setting sun glittering on a little pane of grass in a low-grade hut. That hut was pure outcastle. Then all at once they came out upon the open mountainside and the whole valley lay before them broad and peaceful with the yellow fields and stacks of grain, its green spaces and its slope of birch trees flaming in yellow with here and there a red mountain ash among them. And over across they spied hurl large substantial and well cared for with its broad shining windows and its general air of comfort. Smoke was issuing from its chimney. Such an inviting coffee suggesting welcoming smoke Kirste had probably hung the coffee kettle over the fire already so as to receive them in a suitable manner. The whole procession now began to show more life every member of it knew that Kirste Hurls stood over there in the window watching the long line as it curved down the open slope. All moved forward more quickly the horses hurried ahead the cows began to trot the bell cows sending out an eagerness moo across the valley the bells jingled merrily and Lisbeth Longfock trilled the vigorous call through her little goat horn. They wanted everyone to hear that the great company of animals belonging to Hurl Farm was now coming back again. Thus they hastened down to the bottom of the valley and then up the opposite side. It was not long before they were actually at home. Kirste Hurls herself stood at the cowhouse door and opened it for them. The cows recognized her and each one of them as they went by her in turn received a word or a pat on the head then after which proud and satisfied they went to their separate stalls not a single cow making a mistake. They went swiftly too for they knew that there was something good in the manger to welcome them and they needed something surely for there had not been time to eat anything along the road that day. When the milkmaid had dismounted from her horse Kirste took her hand and said welcome home. Then Kirste went over to the door and the wheat barn opened that also and countered the goats and sheep as they went in. And when Lisbeth Longfrog came following in their way Kirste took her hand also and said welcome home. But, faltered Lisbeth, I have not bought cook home back with me. No, I see that you have not and it is a good thing now that she will be rid of her capers for a while. You have been a faithful and capable little worker there is no doubt of that and how you have grown why your Longfrog is far above your toes now. Then the milkmaid and Lisbeth fastened the cows in their stalls while Kirste went to watch the unloading of the packs and to look at the tubs and boxes containing the butter and cheese that had been made at the satyr. After that Kirste came to them again and asked them to please walk in exactly as if they were grand strangers. And when they had gone into the house they were invited into Kirste's own sitting room both Lisbeth and the milkmaid. Here the table was set with a welcoming meal and oh how delicious the food smelled. There were large hot pancakes as thin as paper and pea spread and hot new potatoes. The finest feast you can give to people just home from a sota. And Kirste herself poured coffee for them and begged them to help themselves. Then they had to give an account of everything that had happened on the mountain to tell about the cows which of them had given the most milk and which of them had stopped giving about the sheep, goats and pigs and about the butter and cheese that had been made. And then Kirste praised the two servants for their faithfulness in industry and the trio rejoiced together in the success of the summer. That evening when Lisbeth longfrog again lay stretched out on her little bed in her room under the hall stairs and thought back over the summer and about the mountain it seemed to her that she had had a glorious time as delightful as could be thought of but all the same it was pleasant to come home again especially when one was welcomed by such an unneutrally fine woman as Kirste Hale. Autumn was passing away the leaves had fallen and the trees spread out naked branches into the cold air. In the fields where grain had grown stood only the poles, now bare and slanting on which the crops had been stacked. The verdu of the meadows was changed to yellowish brown. There was no more food for the animals out of doors so slaughtering day had come. That is the end of the season for the young herder for on that day he gives up his responsibility. Thence forward he is no longer a person with a special duty. He must be at everyone's back and core. And when winter comes with his long evenings when the wood fire gleams out over the huge kitchen from the great open fireplace while wool is being carded and the spinning wheel wears and the farmhands make brooms out of twigs and whittle, fold pins and axe handles then must the herder sit by the pile of twigs and logs at the side of the fireplace and feed the fire so that the rest can see to work while he studies his lessons. By the pile of wood in Kirstie Hurle's big kitchen Lisbeth Longfork had her place on the long winter evenings. She studied and listened and heard so many curious things talked about that it seemed as if the evenings were too short and the days too few in spite of the long dark Norwegian winter. Before she knew it spring had come again and when she looked down at her longfork she found that the hem reach no further than the top of her ankles. End of Chapter 7 Chapter 8 of Lisbeth Longfork Lisbeth Longfork's recording is in the public domain. Lisbeth Longfork by Hans Arnord translated by Laura E. Poulson Chapter 8 on Glory Peak It was again high summer and the sunshine bright on all the mountain tops when one morning an ear-splitting call played on three goat horns rang suddenly out from the enclosure belonging to Hurle Cedar. One call was thin and fine the other two were heavier. The triple signal meant forward march Lisbeth Longfork, Olo and Peter were going to take their trip to Glory Peak to see the spot that had been visited by the king. The boys now owned goat horns to blow on and they were good ones too for Lisbeth Longfork had kept her word about cook horns horns and had given one to each boy. After cook horns running off with the herd of horses things had not gone any better with that proud minded goat. When she finally came home late in the autumn with the last of the horses she was so conceited that there was no getting her to live in the barn with the other goats. They had to put her in the cowhouse but not even the cowhouse was good enough for her after her summer experiences. Every time she got an opportunity out she bounded trotting over to the door of the stable as if she belonged in there. The stable boy insisted that he had even heard her name. One day when the men were feeding the horses they saw her dash in and with her usual self-important air attempt to squeeze her way into the stall of the military horse but that she should not have done. It was dark and the military horse failed to see that it was only cook horn at his heels so up went his hind legs and out went a kick that landed plump on cook horns cranium and sent her flying against the stable wall. That was the last of cook horn. It cannot be said that anyone except perhaps Lisbeth Longfork sorrowed particularly over her but Lisbeth could not help remembering that cook horn had given their milk for their coffee that winter-uppered peer-out castle. At any rate if not much sorrowed for a queer ambitious creature was held in honourable esteem after her death. Such horns as hers Olo had never seen not only were they extremely large but they gave out a peculiarly fine sound. Anyone would know at once that they were not the horns of an ordinary goat there had always been something about cook horn that no one understood, Olo said. Yes, Peter had noticed that too. Afterward when he had thought a little more on the subject he said he believed that horses horns would have exactly the same sound as those of this remarkable goat if there were any horses with horns. On the day of the visit to Glory Peak the goat horns as musical instruments were brand new being used that day for the first time. In fact the trip had been put off until low already. But new goat horns were not the only things the travellers were provided with.  The trip was so long that it would take a whole day. Once more they blew their horns all three together. The animals looked up in surprise at the unusual volume of sound and the milkmaid came to the how-how store with a smiling face. Then off the party started. The flocks were mingled together today and driven straight ahead. No time for them to graze by the wayside with Glory Peak lying so far away blew against the sky. This excursion was a much longer one that Lisbeth had ever before taken and even Ola and Peter had been to Glory Peak but once. It was drawing on toward dinner time when they came to the large gentle ascent leading to the top of Glory Peak. There the juniper bushes and old women's switches dwarf birch grew so high that the animals were quite lost to sight amongst them. Lisbeth and the boys could only see the course of their charges by a wave-like movement that passed over the tops of the bushes and by the sticking up of a pair of horns here and there. Ola thought that this was a good place to leave the flocks for a time while they themselves went on ahead. The animals were so tired and hungry that they would stay there quietly for an hour or so. Then when rested they would be sure to follow up to the peak for a goat was never satisfied until it had mounted to the highest possible point where it could look about in all directions. Ola's plane was centred to and it proved to be a good one. Ola led Lisbeth and Peter round a curve toward the north. He wanted to show them exactly where the king and queen came up on the day of their visit. To be sure they were not really king and queen that day but they were on the very point of being. They were crown prince and crown princess. They had left their horses down on the mountainside where the road grew too steep for driving and had walked the rest of the way. Oh what a large company they had with them. The county magistrate, the district judge and officers so richly dressed that they could scarcely move. Seven or eight of the principal farmers of the district were also in the company and first among them was Nordrum, Jacobs master and the master of Heel Farm who was then living.  The king looked wonderfully fine, didn't he? asked Lisbeth. No, the county magistrate looked much finer and so did the officers and even the people who waited upon them. But it could easily be said that he was the king for he was ahead tall above any of the others. The king must be terrendously strong, said Peter. Strong, of course he is, and he must have use for every bit of his strength too for he has to govern all others. Was the queen also very large, asked Lisbeth? No, she was not much larger than an ordinary woman. She was unusually earnest and modest-looking, father said. There was not so much fuss and feathers with her as with the other women folk. No, said Peter, that old front that my father drove laughed even at the magistrate and found fault because his hands were too big. Huh, said Orlo, that was a joke as if a grown-up fellow should not have big fists. Anyhow, I don't see how she could have seen them for the magistrate wore his white gloves although it was high summer. Orlo resumed the part of Sherman. Next they came up over this way, the whole company, close by that very stone there, and then the king ran on ahead of them. He wanted to be the first to reach the top, as one might know. And now I will show you exactly what he did. Follow me, I will be the king, and you, Lisbeth, may be the queen. Come along. Orlo walked hastily over the last spur of ground the others following. Then, running the last few steps, they found themselves suddenly on the very top of the mountain. Orlo threw out his hand and stood a long time in silence. The others stood still also, involuntarily, impressed by the wonderful sight. Here and there, over the endless expanse of mountains shone glistening lakes and mountain pools, and away off in the distance rose snow-clad peaks. At every open slope, lay green satas and towards the south, as far as the icad ridge, were beautiful farming districts and dark green forest-clad ridges. Orlo and his character of king threw out his arms again.  Then after a short pause, come, Sophie, and see. Orlo took Lisbeth's hand and drew her forward. Yes, assented Peter, that is exactly the way the king did. I have heard about it too. Of course it was, said Orlo. Don't you think I know? What else did he do? asked Lisbeth. The king and queen then went round and spoke to all the other people who began to take out long spy-glasses and gaze in all directions and ask the name of everything. The county magistrate, as the highest of the local officials, stood near the king and queen and pointed things out to them. See that group of distant white peaks, said the magistrate, and there to the north is snow-cap, although I'm not sure that you can distinguish it.  After a while, the company turned round facing the south. When they saw the view in that direction, with the great shining lake lying so far away down there, and the forest stretching farther and farther in the distance, even the king himself was astonished. He thought that the forest must reach almost to Sweden. He had never seen a so vast an extent of forest at one view, king though he was. When they had finished looking at the surrounding landscape, Nordrum went to that patch of reindeer moss over there and gathered a whole handful of it. A good many of the people wondered, of course, what he was going to do with it. He went over to the king, showed it to him and said, Should you like to see the moss that we mixed with birch bark to make bread during the war? The king took a piece and chewed it. Yes, there was bread nine minutes, he said. No one else had moved or spoken since Nordrum picked up the moss. They were so surprised. At last father heard one of the officers say, It's astonishing how tactless these farmers can be. Well, he's tactless, asked Lisbeth. Oh, I don't know, but no doubt it is something pleasant. For the king clapped Nordrum on the shoulder and said, Thanks, my good ma'am. We can all thank God that there are happier days in Norway now. That was what I was thinking of when I showed you the moss, said Nordrum. Then they took the king to the great heap of stones that was piled up as a memorial of his visit and asked him to scratch his name upon the stone slab beside it. And so he did. O-S, which stands for Oscar and Sophia. And then the number of the year, too. See, here it is. It was all cut into the slab afterwards, exactly as the king himself had scratched it. The three looked at the letters. Yes, indeed, that was beautiful writing, almost like print. How remarkably well the king must be able to write on paper when he could write like that on stone. Just then the animals came crowding up over the edge of the mountaintop. They also went to the pile of stones and the big, flat stones like a table that stood beside it. They began to lie down. For now after eating they wanted to rest. What else did the king and the others do, asked Lisbeth? There wasn't much more. Oh yes, after the king had finished writing he seemed to think that they needed something to eat. So he began singing to the magistrate a line from an old song that they all knew. The king had a good voice and it rang out with a jolly zest. I'll have you a drop in your bottle. Then they laughed and came forward with a basket and set the table on the stone here. And they had something to drink and some little cakes and after that they went away again. And now concluded all, I think that we also need something to eat. Let us sit here at the king's table and have our lunch too.  When the bags were open many good things came out. There was butter and pork and pea spread and then Lisbeth's cream waffles beside. In each bag there was also a bottle of milk except in all those he had forgotten his. But that did not matter for the others had plenty. They shared their food with each other and when all they wanted milk he merely said, I'll have you a drop in your bottle. And he got rather more than his share after all. They did not talk much at the beginning of the meal for it was so good to get a chance to eat. But when they had eaten quite a while and their jaws began to work more slowly Peter said as if he had been pondering upon it. I wonder what the king has to eat for every day I mean. Lopid cream porridge all day long, said Olo with conviction. Yes, but when he wants a little solid food once in a while, asked Lisbeth. Peter had just put a very delicious piece of pork on some pea spread. He looked at it with real enjoyment before eating it. I'm sure that he has pork and pea spread, said he. Lisbeth took the last waffle and bit a piece off. Then she said, yes, but the queen. She certainly does not eat anything but cream waffles. While they sat there on the stone eating and talking they saw a figure far off on the mountain. It was coming in the direction of Glory Peak. So unusual is it to meet another person up on the mountain that it gives one a strange feeling when it happens. Soon they could think of nothing but except the stranger. It must be a man trying to find his horses, said Olo. Yes, it must be surely, said Peter. But what farmer could be sending up for his horses now? Let me see. It must be Naundrum. Yes, that is true. They have only old blacken at home now and they will have to begin their haymaking soon. Yes, but this man is going on a wild goose chase today. The Naundrum man is over on the other side of Asseta. I saw her a fortnight ago. If we set him right he can find her tomorrow. Yes, easily. They sat and watched for they knew it would be a long time before the figure could reach them. It is so strange to watch anyone coming toward you on the mountain. He walks and walks and it can be seen from his motions that he is walking quickly too. But he does not appear to get the least bit nearer. He continues to seem small and far away and to increase very slowly in size because the distances from point to point are so great. The animals had risen and had began to descend the peak in the direction of Asseta. But they concluded to lie down again and await the stranger's approach. At last he reached them. They had guessed right. He was walking about trying to find the Naundrum horses. The boys told him what they knew and said that although he could not get them that day he could the next day surely. When the question of the horses was settled the man turned to Lisbeth. Isn't it you who I called Lisbeth long from? Yes, answered Lisbeth. They do call me that. Then I bring you a greeting from Jacob your brother. I have a letter with me from him. He wants me to bring him an answer but there is no hurry about it till tomorrow. I shall spend the night at Herl Theta whether I find the horses today or not. But now I must look around a little before evening comes. I want to be sure that the horses are not on this side of the Theta. So off he went. Lisbeth was still sitting on the king's table. It was the first time she had ever received a letter. Indeed, even Isla and Peter had never received any. They were entirely overwhelmed with suspectful surprise and took their stand at a suitable distance. On the outside of the letter stood Salve Tito to the highly respected maiden Lisbeth Jacob's daughter Longfrog at Herl Theta on the West Mountain. At convenience, by messenger, post free. Lisbeth broke the seal solemnly and opened the letter. Then she read half a letter. Naudre Meseta, 15th of this month. Salve Tito to the maiden Lisbeth Longfrog. Good sister, since time and opportunity permit I now take my pen in hand to write to you and tell you I have nothing to write about except that it is a long time since I last saw you. But I have a spare day due to me from hands. I took care of his animals for him when he went to his mother's burial. It was really two days, but I only reckoned it as one because it was his mother. And now I will take that day from him on the next Sunday of this month. In case you have a day due to you from Peter or Arela I write to ask if you cannot take it from them. But if you have not, you can take a day all the same because I am stronger, but I did not mean anything by it when I gave Peter a thrashing last winter. So I wanted to write to you and ask if we could not meet at Peerout Castle for I have not been there since. You are requested to come to the meeting in good season. Bring something to eat with you. With much regard, respectfully, Jacob Jacobson, Naudre Mesquire. P.S., please answer. That evening Lisbeth Longfrog sat with her tongue thrust into one corner of her mouth and wrote her response. Hurls, Seta, 17th of this month. To Bachelor Jacob Jacobson, Naudre. Good brother. I will now write a few words to you and thank you for your welcome letter which I have duly received. I am glad to see that you are in good health. The same can be said of me except for toothache. But I will gladly come. The milkmaid says I may be away overnight because it is too far. And so Ola and Peter can each have a day from me, for I have not had any day from them. They wrestle almost all the time, but Peter is nearly as strong. I must now pose my poor letter to you with many greetings from them. But first and foremost are you greeted by me, your affectionate sister, Lisbeth Jacobs' daughter Longfrog. P.S. Excuse the writing. Burn this letter, dear. End of Section 8. Chapter 9 of Lisbeth Longfrog. This slipper-box recording is in the public domain. Lisbeth Longfrog by Hans Unrod. Translated by Laura E. Poulson. Chapter 9. The Visit to Peer Out Castle. Late on Saturday evening, Lisbeth Longfrog went jogging slowly up over the hilly road to her farm. The milkmaid had given her leave to go to the farm and stay away till Monday evening. She had risen early that day, for she would not think of such a thing as leaving the seater before she had done her morning chores, and milked the goats and let out the cows. And she had to do this very early, not only because she was in a hurry to get away, but also because she knew that Ola would not oversleep himself after having insisted so strongly that he should take care of her flock the first day. She had barely finished when Ola came. Peter was not with him, but she had had a talk with Peter the evening before, and he was quite as well pleased to take her flock on Sunday by himself, and then on Monday he and Ola could watch all the flocks together. Ola had been very modest and ceremonious with Lisbeth, as he bade her goodbye. He had shaken her hand and asked her to greet Jacob from him, and to say that he, Ola Cookseth, would not keep close account of these days Lisbeth was taking, since Jacob really needed to speak with his sister. He did not know, of course, that Peter had said the very same thing the evening before. And then she had given her animals over to Ola's choir, and had begun her long walk down the mountain. She walked and she walked hour after hour. She had now gone over this set her roads several times, but never before noticed that it was so long as it seemed today. She rested by her book, took out her lunch, ate it and drank some water with it, and then set out again. In order to forget how slowly time was passing, she began to count her steps, first by tens and then by hundreds, and each time she had finished counting, she looked back to see how far she had walked. But this did not avail in the least, so she made up her mind to count to a thousand. When she had counted almost up to a thousand, she could not remember whether it was eight or nine hundred she had lost, so she counted four hundred more in order to be altogether certain that she had counted enough. But even that did not make the time pass any more quickly, and she did not reach the point where she could look down into the valley until the sun was setting. The shadow had begun to creep up on the opposite side. Above the dark line the slope was still bathed in a rosy evening sunlight, but the shadow steadily ate its way upward. Then Lisbeth forgot to count her steps any more. What fun it would be to try to reach the sunshine again before the shadow had passed her, which lay shining so brightly up there. She went down the long slope on a run, but run fast as she might, it took time, and when she had reached the bottom of the valley and started up the hilly road on the other side, the sun had gone down. She could only catch its last gleam through the tops of the spruce trees, and her last tiny reflection as it left the windows of pure art castle. She stopped to get her breath after running. It was so still and warm and close down there in the valley, so different from what it had been up on the mountain. It seemed as if the earth sent out a deep breath. The moment the sun went down, a strange, heavy fragrance that made it all at once feel anxious and downhearted, just as if she had done something wrong which she could not remember. Then it came into her mind that she ought to have sent word to Kersti Hurl that she was coming. People in the valley were always afraid that something was the matter when a person came down from the set unexpectedly. It would be too shameful for anyone to give Kersti Hurl a fright. That was the reason she was now jogging so slowly up the hilly road leading to Hurl Farm. She was in hopes that someone would catch sight of her, or that at least bear-hunter would give warning of her approach, for then they would see that she was not coming in haste and that she therefore could not be bringing any bad news. But no one caught sight of her and no one was stirring on the farm, so she would have to go right in after all. Yes, Kersti Hurl was really startled when she saw her. Lisbeth had no time to offer a greeting before Kersti said, What in the world is this about and bird that has taken flight? There is nothing the matter at the set, is there? Lisbeth made haste to answer, Oh, no indeed. I was to greet you from the milkmaid and say that you must not be frightened at seeing me, for everything is going very well with both man and beast. I have only come down to make a visit and meet Jacob my brother. God be praised, said Kersti, and now you are heartily welcome. At these words all Lisbeth's downheartedness vanished, and she felt only how festive and cosy it was to be at home again. And Kersti was in the best of humours. She gave Lisbeth something good to eat and treated her with as much ceremony as if she had been the milkmaid herself. When the time came for Lisbeth to go to bed, Kersti went with her all the way to the little sleeping room under the horse stairs, which looked just as neat and orderly as when she had left it. And Kersti sat on the edge of the bed and asked after every single one of the animals. She remembered them all. And Lisbeth told about everything. It was only one provoking thing that she shrank from confessing. It might as well be acknowledged first as last, however, for it was sure to come out sometime. And that was her mistake in naming one of the calves. She had called it young moolly, but the name had proved not at all suitable, for the calf's horns had begun to grow, though Lisbeth had done her best to grant it by stirring salt on them. The next day was Sunday, and Lisbeth thought it certainly began well when no lesser person than Kersti, her herself, came out into the little hall room, carrying a big tray with coffee and cakes on it, for Lisbeth to indulge in as she lay in bed. Such grandeur as that Lisbeth had never before experienced. She scarcely believed that such a thing had ever happened to the milkmaid herself. And what's more, when she hopped into her long fork, Kersti said that she must hurry up and grow, for there would be a new dress for her as soon as this one had crept up to her knees. And although Lisbeth had not said a word about where she was going to meet Jacob, it seemed just as if Kersti knew that too, for she made up a package with a remarkably fine lunch in it, and told Lisbeth that she must treat Jacob to some of it, because he would probably have to go back to Nordrum's theatre that evening, and would not have time to come down to her. But after lunch was put up, Kersti did not seem to see any necessity for further haste. In fact, she thought it would not be possible for Jacob to get to peer out-castle very early, because he would have to come all the way from Nordrum's theatre that morning. So finally Lisbeth had to show Kersti her letter and point out the place where it said, you are requested to come to the meeting in good season. Then, of course, Kersti understood that there was no time to spare. Shortly after, Lisbeth was on her way to peer out-castle, bare-hunter following her up the road to where the slope of birch trees began. Then he turned round and jogged home with the blandest and prettiest of Sunday curls in his tail. The valley lay before her and as quiet morning peace. No one was out on the road or in the fields. Here and there in the farmhouse across the valley could be seen a man leaning against the frame of the doorway, bare-headed and in shirtsleaves as white as the driven snow. From all the chimney smoke was slowly arising in the still air. Lisbeth looked involuntary up at peer-out-castle. There everything appeared gray and desolate. No smoke ascended from its chimney and the window-eye that gazed out over the valley looked as if it were blind, for the sunlight did not shine upon it now. And that brought to mind a blind person whom Lisbeth had once seen and whose strange empty eyes made her shiver. She felt just the same now and her pace slackened. She did not wish to get to the house before Jacob did. When she finally reached peer-out-castle, the first thing she saw was the pine branches that had been nailed to the gate-posts the last time she was there. They stood in their places still, but they were dry and the pine needles had fallen off. She glanced hastily at the door of the house. Yes, the pine tree stood there too, just the same, but a fresher twig had been stuck in the door-latch. Someone had evidently been there since that last day. The path that led from the gate to the door and from there over to the cowhouse had vanished. Grass covered it. The cowhouse door had fallen off and around the door-posts had grown up tall, stinging nettles. No trace was to be seen of the foot of man or beast. Elizabeth had rejoiced at the idea of coming back to her old home. It had never rented her mind that peer-out-castle could be anything but the pleasantest place in the whole world to come to. Now, on the contrary, she felt all at once very, very lonely, more lonely than when on the mountain or in the forest. She felt like one who, afraid of the dark, is obliged to walk in it as if every step must be taken warily that no creaking be heard. Without realising it, she veered away from the castle and the cowhouse, feeling that she would rather go over to the big stone by the book where she and Jacob used to have their playthings. Perhaps it was not so desolate there. When she came to the heather ridge, she saw Jacob already sitting on the stone. At the sight of him, Elizabeth felt as if there were life again in all the desolation. She was so happy that she was about to run toward him. But then she remembered that such behaviour would not be suitable at the ceremonious meeting like this, and that really it was so long the time since he had seen Jacob that he was almost a stranger to her. When he saw her, he jumped down from the stone and began to brush his grey britches with his hands and to set his cap straight. He wore a cap with a visor now and not a straw hat like hers. Both of them were as embarrassed as if they were entire strangers to each other and they could not look each other in the eye while shaking hands. He made a heavy bob with his head while she curtsied so low that her long fork dropped down to the ground. After that, each dropped the other's hand and they remained standing a long time looking around. It was not easy to find something to say, although both had fancied that they had a great deal to talk about. At last Jacob thought of something. He looked about for quite a while longer than said as if he had weighed the matter deliberately and thoroughly. It is delightful weather today. Yes, really delightful. If it holds out a fortnight longer it will not be bad weather for hanging. No, it will not be bad at all. But we can scarcely expect that. Oh no, scarcely. Then there was silence again for not much more could be said on that subject. Let's bestow a look at Jacob. She thought of saying something about his having grown so large but then again it did not seem to her quite proper for her to speak first, he being the elder. A package of food caught her eye. She could certainly begin to speak about that. Kirstie Hurl sent you her greetings and gave me ask if you would not try to put up with the lunch she has sent today. Yes, thank you, but I have some with me too. You must be hungry after your long walk. Yes, I can't say that I am not. Then we will set the table here on the stone. Little by little, Elizabeth set out on the stone all the good things which Kirstie had put in the package. And then she said, as she had heard was the custom when one entertains strangers, be so good as to draw up your chair, Jacob. And Jacob hesitated also according to custom and said, Oh, thanks, but you should not put yourself to any trouble on my account. They sat down. The ceremonious manners were kept up during the first part of the meal and Elizabeth did not forget to say please whenever it was proper. But when Jacob had eaten one of Kirstie's pancakes, a large, very thin kind, spread with fresh butter or sweetmeat, and was just beginning on the second, he forgot he was at a party, so to speak, and said quite naturally and with conviction, that was a remarkably good pancake. Yes, of course, it is from Hurl. At that it was as if they suddenly knew each other again, as if it had been only yesterday that they had kneeled on the bench under the window and looked over the valley and made up their minds where they would like best to live when they went out to service, as if they had never been parted from each other. At an instant after they were in an eager dispute about which was the better place to live at, Nordrum or Hurl. Agree upon that question they could not. But when Jacob's appetite had been more than satisfied, he finally admitted that they were both fine places, each in his own way, that at any rate, those two were the best in the whole valley. And now there was no end to all they had to talk over together and to tell each other. Jacob told about Nordrum and the Nordrumsator and the goats there. And Misfeth told about her and Peter and gave Jacob their greeting. She had much to tell about them both. But Jacob thought it was queer that she had more to say about Urla than about Peter. And while Urla was a straightforward fellow, he could not be denied that he was a bit of a boaster. Then they talked about their future. Jacob was going to stay at Nordrum Farm until he was grown up and perhaps longer. Nordrum had said that when Jacob was a grown man and married, he could take pure outcastle with the right of buying it as soon as he was able. But Jacob thought that it was very likely Nordrum meant it only as a joke. And anyway, it was a little early for him to be thinking about marriage. Nordrum was getting on in years, however. He would be sure to need a headman about the place by that time. Misfeth said she was going to stay at her. She was as well off there as she could expect to be for Kirstie was exceedingly kind to her. Misfeth did not say anything about her ambition to become a milkmaid. Indeed, that goal was so far off that she did not dare to set her heart upon reaching it. When they had talked thus freely for a while, they began to look around and call to mind all the plays they used to play and all the places they used to frequent. There, right by the castle itself, they had had their cowhouse with its pine-tone animals. Why on the lay the big bull even now? And there, on the other side of the Heather Ridge, had been their satyr where they had driven their animals many times during the summer. And there, on the hill, Jacob had had his sawmill that Lisbeth was never to touch. And further down, she had had her dairy where he came and bought cheese in exchange for planks made out of carrots that he had sliced in his sawmill. Not a stony amount could be seen the whole way up to the Stony Raspberry Patches on Binghammer Mountain that did not have some memory connected with it. The brother and sister now felt themselves much older than when they had lived at Peerout Castle. Lisbeth thought that Jacob had grown to be very large and he secretly thought the same about her. It was therefore like holding a sort of festival for them to be visiting the scenes together and talking of their former life as of something long gone by, saying to each other now and then, Do you remember? What is talked of in that way assumes unwanted proportion and appears to be without flaw. Thus they went about the whole day. They had even been close up to Binghammer itself and it was already late in the afternoon when they again drew near Peerout Castle. They did not seem to be in any haste to reach it. They lingered by book and stone to say, Do you remember? Often both at once and about the same thing. They chased each other in aimless fashion. Their chief idea seemed to be to think continually of something new to do so they should come no silent pause and that the time of getting back to the castle should be put off as long as possible. Neither of them had yet mentioned a single memory connected with the castle itself They had not visited either of these places yet and they had avoided all mention of their mother. But now they knew that the time had come when these sad things could be avoided no longer. They dragged themselves slowly down over the last ridge talking more rapidly and nervously and with loud and forced laughter. Then suddenly their laughter ceased as if it had been cut straight across. They had come out on the ridge just back of the cowhouse. They became very, very quiet and stood a while with heads cast down. Then they turned towards each other and their eyes met. They did not seem at all as if they had just been laughing. Their eyes were so strangely big and bright. While they stood looking at each other there came suddenly the clunk of a bell o'erhance forehagen. At that Jacob shook his head as if shaking himself free from something and said in a most indifferent manner, Do you think that at this forehagen bell we hear over there? Lesbeth answered as unconcerned as she could. Yes it is, I remember it. What cow do you believe they have its forehagen now for their home milking? We could go over there and see whether it is blear us. That was the first time since her mother's death that Lesbeth had spoken blear us his name aloud. But to do it was easier than to name her mother. It was not long before Lesbeth and Jacob were on their way over to its forehagen. They had gone round the castle and the cowhouse without going very near them. It was not worth while to tread down the grass, Jacob said. As they had expected they found blear us its forehagen. She was standing close by the gate and they really thought that she knew Lesbeth again. They petted her and talked to her and gave her waffles and pancakes.  Jacob's heart was so touched that at last he promised to buy blear us back and give it to Lesbeth as soon as he was grown up. That Lesbeth could contain herself no longer. She put her arms around blear us's neck, looked at her a long time and said, Do you believe, Jacob, that blear us remembers mother? And then she began to cry. The question came upon Jacob so unexpectedly that at first he could say nothing. After a moment's struggle he too was crying. But he managed to declare with decision, Yes, if she remembers anyone it must certainly be mother. End of Chapter 9 Chapter 10 of Lisbeth Longfock This Slippervox recording is in the public domain. Lisbeth Longfock by Hans Arnrod Translated by Laura E. Polson Chapter 10 Sunday at the Sater Five summers had passed away since Lisbeth Longfock first went up on the mountain. And no one who has not seen her during those years could have guessed that she had grown into the tall girl sitting by herself one Sunday on the stone which, so far back as any herder could remember, had been called the Pancake Stone and which lay hidden away in a distant and lonely part of the mountain. She had grown so tall that the Longfock, now used as a petticoat, came above her knees. And she no longer wore the birch bark hat and birch bark shoes. On this special Sunday her Sunday kerchief was on her head and she sat with a book in her lap. For in winter she was to go to the priest to be prepared for confirmation and in the spring she was to be confirmed. The reading did not progress very rapidly. The book had sunk down into her lap and her calm blue eyes now grown so womanly and earnest were roving from one to another of the dear familiar places about her. Her flock lay quietly around the stone chewing the cunder. Indian summer was near its close. The sky was high-volted and the air clear and cool. As far as the eye could reach all things were sketched and sharp as that by. Hills and marshes already glowed in autumnal tints. For these make their triumphal entry on the mountains earlier than below. The sun shone tranquilly and as it were a little coolly also. Everything was very still not even the sound of a bell was heard for the animals were taking their afternoon rest and no movement was discernible except far, far away where Lisbeth spied a falcon flapping out from glory peak. Just as it was now had Lisbeth seen the mountain at the close of each summer all these years. It had become familiar and dear to her and she thought to herself how unchanging it was through all its variableness while so much else altered never to be the same again. For much had changed since she first sat on this same stone and looked out over this same landscape. Few of the animals she now took care of had belonged to her original flock. The oldest had gone out and new ones had come in. The unlucky Mawkskull, mother's moally was now a foregrown cow with horns of more than usual beauty. The former milkmaid was gone and another had taken her place. Alla and Peter with whom Lisbeth in early years had tended her flock almost daily were her companions no longer. They had not been up at the set since they were confirmed two years ago. Alla had even sailed to America. Lisbeth had missed the boys very much and had many a time been lonely during the last two summers for no new herders had come from the Hisketh and Lindy farms. At home too at the hurl farm there had been changes among the people and bear hunter had become blind. Lisbeth herself no longer occupied her old place by the heap of firewood in the Great Kitchen or winter evenings but sat beside Kersti on the wooden carving bench. That is, she sat there when she did not have to study her catechism or learn her hymns to be ready for school the next day. And now still further changes were in store for her. This was to be her last summer she would be sitting up here tending her flock. What would come next? Kersti hurl had not said anything to her about the future. Perhaps Kersti would not want her any longer. But Lisbeth put these thoughts aside. She would not allow her mind to dwell on such perplexing subjects when all was so delightfully peaceful and beautiful around her. Whatever her lot might be or wherever she might go there was one thing she was certain. She would never forget these mountain scenes or the stone which had always been her favourite resting place especially since she had been so much alone and she gazed around her again. As her eyes wandered about she caught sight of a man far off on the marsh sauntering along in her direction stopping once in a while and stooping down apparently to pluck an occasional cloudberry while they were now beginning to ripen. This sent her thoughts into another channel. Who could it be coming over the marsh? Not a man looking for horses for no one goes out for that purpose on Sunday. Nor a cloudberry picker for the berries were not yet ripe enough to pay for the trouble of seeking. Surely it was someone who had made the ascent of the mountains for pleasure only. Whatever it should be Jacob had seen him since the last autumn and he had said then that he would come up to see her this summer. Nevertheless the young man did not look like Jacob and Jacob not being very well acquainted on the western mountain would not be trying to find the pancake stone. Yet this person was steering his course exactly forward where she sat and it was plain that he knew the marsh thoroughly where the cloudberries grew on where it was not so wet but that you could get across. It could not possibly be she blushed the instant she thought of the name. At the same moment the stranger disappeared behind a hill so that she saw no more of him for the time. Involuntarily she tied her kerchief freshly under her chin stroked her light hair under the edge of the kerchief and smoothed out the folds in her skirt. Then sitting with her back half turned to the quarter where he might be expected to appear she took up her book and bent her head over it as if reading. Shortly afterward a young man shot up over the hill behind her. He had on brand new grey woolen clothes a bought scarf around his neck and top boots outside his trousers. He was not tall but his figure was well-knit and manly In his useful face on which the merriest shadow of down could be distinguished he set a pair of brown eyes trusting and trustworthy. He stopped a moment and looked down at the open space where Lisbeth sat upon the stone with the flock of animals around her. It was evident that he had a memory of the scene that he had seen that picture before. Lisbeth did not look up but she knew he was there and felt in her back so to speak that he was standing there gazing at her. He smiled and then swung his course round so as to approach her from the side and so that the animals might have time to become gently aware of his presence and not scramble up in her flooring. Silently he drew near to her till at last his shadow fell upon her book. Then she looked up and their eyes met. At that both of them flushed a little and he said hostily, Good day Lisbeth longfrog. Good day, why did you Peter out for a walk? They shook hands. Yes, I thought it would be pleasant to have a look at the old places and since Jacob was coming up to visit you I made up my mind to keep him company. Is Jacob with you? Yes, but he was waiting down at the setter for he was tired. We were out early today and tomorrow we are to take home a pair of nags to Husketh Farm. He sent you his greeting and will see you this evening. Were you sure that you could find me? Oh yes, I knew just about where you would be in such weather and of course it is more fun for me to ramble about here than for him I being so familiar with the region. He sat down beside her on the stone and gazed slowly around. Does it look natural here? Yes, everything is unaltered. It seems only yesterday that I was here taking care of the londiflox but I hardly recognised you again. You have grown so large. Do you think so? Yes, but still it is two years since I last saw you. There was a short pause, then Peter continued I walked over sloping marsh by our bathing pond. The water has all run out. Yes, it has. I wondered if it would not be a good plan for me to build the dam up again so you could use the pond. No, you need not do that for I have my bathing place somewhere else a place that no one knows about. I'll have you. Yes, I hadn't for last year that you and Ole were here. So it was there you used to be on the days you kept away from us. Yes, sometimes. The animals began to get up and stray off thus attracting attention. Lisbeth made Peter look at the older goats to see if he recognised them and she was glad to find that he did remember them all. Then she told him about the new ones but soon that topic was exhausted and there was apparently nothing more to talk about. They still remained seated on the stone. Then Peter said, You haven't that birch bark had any longer, have you, Lisbeth? No, it was worn out long ago. But what is it that you have on this string? He took hold carefully of a string she wore around her neck and pulling it drew out from her bosom the little goat horn he had given her. I did not think you would have that horn still, said Peter. A deep blush covered Lisbeth's face with the idea of appearing childish to Peter. She hastened to say, Oh yes, I carry it with me sometimes. I have mine too. It is the only thing I have left for my herding days. And he drew one of Cookhorn's horns out of an inner pocket. Shall we try them? Then they both laughed and played the old woman with a stick together as they had done so often in the old days. It did not sound as if either of them had forgotten it at the least. When the tune was finished there was another pause. At last Lisbeth said, I must look after the animals a little now or I shall lose track of them. Can't you let them go home alone tonight? It is time for them to seek the fold and they will surely find the way safely. Then we can walk to the seat and moor at our leisure. Yes, I will gladly. I can trust them to find their way home, I'm sure. Again there was silence for a time. Then Lisbeth rose saying, I think we must go now. Peter did not stir.  There was something I wanted to ask you. Lisbeth bowed her head and seated herself again without speaking. I have a greeting for you from all of us. Paula, I received a letter from him a fortnight ago. He asked me very particularly to give you his greetings. Thank you, he's all going well with him. Yes, it seems so from his letter. He has a good place and earns large wages. Paula deserves it, he grew to be a fine fellow. Yes, he did. He asked me whether I will go to America in the spring. He will send me a ticket if I will. On hearing that Lisbeth looked up at Peter for an instant and dropped her head without saying a word. Peter continued, It was that I wanted to ask you about. Do you wish me to go? I did silence into you, during which Peter sat looking inquiring at her. For a long time she was motionless.  There was no more conversation on that subject. And soon they were on their way to the Sator. They went around by all their familiar memorable places, including both the raiding pool and the pointing stump. And all these places had so many reminders for them of the time when they had watched their fox together there. But more than once they said how much they pitied Ola who would perhaps never be able to come to Norway again. The sky arched high and clear above them, the mountains stretched beyond them with its unending silent wastes, and Lisbeth and Peter felt strangely buoyant and glad. Although they had made no agreement, they felt as if they had a hidden bond between them, as if they too had a wonderful secret that no one, not even Jacob, could share. End of chapter 10 Chapter 11 of Elizabeth Longfrog Elizabeth Longfrog by Hans Arnwood, translated by Laura E. Paulson Chapter 11. Elizabeth appointed head milkmaid. It was the first Sunday after Easter early in the morning, Lisbeth sat by a small table in her little sleeping room, with one elbow leaning on the table and her hand under her chin while she stared down at a big black book which lay open before her. The book was the New Testament, and Lisbeth's lips moved softly as she read. That morning, for the first time in several years, she had not gone into the cowhouse. Kirstie Hurl had said that she was to have a couple of hours in which she could be alone. And one was to disturb her. She sat there somewhat stiff and helpless in a long black dress with a strip of white at the neck. The dress seemed to her rather tight, so tight that she held her elbows close to her side and hardly dared to bend her back. It was the first time she had had a close-fitting dress on, her usual costume being a jacket and skirt. Her light hair was drawn smoothly back to a knot at her neck. That was for the first time, too. She was a trifle paler than usual, and her lips as she moved them were dark red and dewy, but her eyes shone with peace. All in all, she was beautiful as she sat there in her little room waiting for church time to come. This was the day that she was to be confirmed. A knock was heard at the door where she stepped Kirstie Hurl. She also was dressed in her very best, an old-fashioned black dress with a gathered waist and a freshly iron cap with a fill around the face and strings hanging down. In her hand she carried the big sun book, a handsome one printed in large type, which she used only on the greatest occasions. On top of her sun book lay a neatly folded pocket handkerchief. Standing still for a moment and looking earnestly at Lisbeth, Kirstie said, Do you think you are ready now, Lisbeth? Lisbeth answered quietly, Yes, I think so. Then it is time for us to start. Come, let me tie your kerchief so that your hair will not get untidy. She tied the kerchief on Lisbeth's head and then they went slowly out through the hallway. Outside at the door stood the broad wagon with a military horse harnessed to it. You may come and sit up here by me, Lisbeth, said Kirstie. So they both got into the wagon and drove off. Not a word was spoken the whole way. As they drove down the hill from the farm and out on the main road, they were encompassed by all of the effervescence of spring. Its myriads of sights, sounds and odours. The books and rivers rushed tunefully along, birds by the thousand were singing and calling. Insects were buzzing, trees and plants of many sorts were pouring their fragrance over the whole valley. And above it all stood the sun, shedding down its glittering light. But these things failed to arouse in Lisbeth the feelings they usually awakened. They had instead the effect of a roar and disturbance of something inharmonious that caused her to quiver with discomfort. In voluntary she drew nearer to Kirstie on the wagon seat. She felt a longing for one thing only, silence. Thus they drove for a while along the Sunday road. Then suddenly a broad way of sound came rolling toward them. The church bills were adding their tones, broad, peaceful shore to the general chorus. They did not drown the sounds of spring, they took them up as it were, and ordered them, harmonised them, used them as a gentle accompaniment, so that the whole world seemed like a great psalm singing and organ playing. At the sound of the bells there came to Lisbeth a feeling of peace, solemnity and holiness, such as she had never known before. She felt lifted up. A change came over the world about her. Everything became lighter loftier as if prepared for a sacred festival. She felt her mighty gladness within her. From that time on she had but a confused consciousness of what took place. On arriving at the church she thought that the gathering of people around her had never been so large or so reverent in demeanour, and that the church had never looked so tall and shiny. As she went inside and walked up the church aisle she felt very erect and free. The same wonderful light was within the church too, and when she looked down at the lines of those who were to be confirmed with her, as they stood with bowed heads on each side of the middle aisle, she thought that their faces were strangely radiant. When the priest came into the chancel it seemed to her that he was much larger than ever before, and that his face was oh so mild. He began to speak, and though she did not really hear or understand what he said, she felt that it was something great and good, and it thrilled her like music. As soon as the psalm singing began she joined in with a stronger voice, unusual, her breasts swelling involuntarily. When it came her turn to be questioned she hardly knew whether she had heard what the priest asked or not, but she was sure nevertheless that her answer, which came forth clear and firm, was the right one. And when she knelt down and gave the priest her hand, as the ceremony required, it seemed to her that the awkward figures in the old alter pictures smiled benignly upon her. She did not come holy to herself until the confirmation ceremony was entirely over, and she had gone to her seat beside Kersti Hurl in one of the church pews. As Lyspeth drew near, Kersti took her hand and said half aloud, May it bring you happiness and blessing, Lyspeth. Lyspeth stood for a moment, looked up at Kersti as if just a waitening, smiled and whispered softly, Thanks, Kersti Hurl. Then when the service was over, they walked out of church. Outside the church door stood Jacob and Peter. They lifted their caps to Kersti and shook hands with her. Afterward they shook hands with Lyspeth, lifting their caps to her too. Which had not been their custom before her confirmation. They also said to her, May it bring you happiness and blessing. After that Kersti and Lyspeth walked about the grassy space in front of the church. They made slow progress because there were so many people who wanted to greet the mistress of Hurl and to ask what girl it was that she had presented for confirmation on that day. At last they reached the broad wagon to which the horse had already been harnessed and, mounting into it, they set forth on their homeward way returning in silence as they had come. Not until they reached home did Kersti say, You would like to be alone a while this afternoon too? Yes, thank you, responded Lyspeth. In the afternoon Lyspeth Longfrock again sat alone in the little room in the hallway. Bear Hunter, who had now become blind, lay outside her door. Whenever he was not in the kitchen whereas a rule he kept to his own corner he lay at Lyspeth's door having chosen this place in preference to his old one on the flat stone in the front of the house. To lie on the doorstep where so many went out and in and nowadays they went so rudely was too exciting for him. But Lyspeth always stepped considerably. As Lyspeth sat there in her room she was not reading in any book in fact she was doing nothing at all. Spread out on the bed before her lay her Longfrock which she had not used that winter. It looked very small and worn. When she had come into her room where the afternoon sun felt slant wise upon the coverlet of her bed picturing there the small window frame she had had a wonderful feeling of peace and contentment. It seemed to her that there was not the least need of thinking about serious things or of reading either. She felt that the simplest and most natural thing to do was merely to busy herself happily without putting her thoughts on anything in particular. She had no worthy possessions of value but she did have a small chess received in the second year of her stay at Hall. And in this chess there was a tiny side box and also a space in the lid where she had stored away the little she owned that seemed worth keeping. She had pulled the chess forward and opened it. To take the things out, look at each one and recall the memories connected with them was very pleasant. It was the good for nothing old pocket knife that had been given her to Biola the first summer on the mountain. Then there was a letter from Biola too that she had received the last autumn and that no one knew about. In it he had asked if he might send her and Jacob tickets to America after she had been confirmed. She had not answered the letter yet but she would do so soon now and thank him and say she was not coming for she knew that she could never leave Norway. And then she took out the goat horn that Peter had given her. She was seized with a strong desire to play on it but did not dare to because it would sound so strange in the house. Next to the place where the goat horn had lain was a silk nectar chief that Peter had given her for Christmas. He had sent it by Jacob. She herself had not seen or spoken with Peter since that Sunday last year when he had found her on the mountain until today at the church. And there was the letter she had received from Jacob in regard to their meeting at Peerout Castle. It was the only letter she had ever had from him. Jacob was not one to write much but she had a few small gifts that he had sent her. Down at the bottom of her chest there a goat chief that she had never taken out before. Her mother's goat chief. It seemed to Elizabeth that now was the first time she had really dared to think about her mother. She took out the goat chief and spread it on the bed. And when, as she did so her eye caught sight of her old long frock hanging on the wall she spread that too on the bed. Then she seated herself and gazed upon these simple objects. The time had arrived when it was possible for her to look back without becoming hopelessly sorrowful when she could ponder over the rich memories which these poor relics hid. The memories from Peerout Castle not being the least precious. She sat nourishing these thoughts a long time beginning at the beginning as far back as she could remember and going forward to this very Sunday. The memories came easily and in regular succession and all of them were good memories. Everything that had seemed hard at the time either had been forgotten or was seen now in a softer light. Suddenly there came a knock at the door and before Elizabeth had had time to conceal the things or presence of mind to rise from her chair in walked Kirstie Hurl. Elizabeth saw that Kirstie noticed the things at once but she was not in the least embarrassed. For Kirstie only smiled kindly and said I see that you are thinking about your mother today, Elizabeth and that is right. But now come with me into my room there was something I wished to talk with you about. Elizabeth was half alarmed at this for never before had Kirstie spoken so seriously to her but she rose quietly and did as she was busy. Kirstie went ahead through the kitchen and across to the door of her own room Elizabeth following close behind. The others in the kitchen looked at them curiously wondering what was going to happen. Once in her room Kirstie took a seat beside the table and asked Elizabeth to sit at the opposite side. Then said Kirstie you are now grown up Elizabeth Longfock and hereafter you will be free to decide things for yourself. I have kept the last promise I made to your mother and I can today say that it has been only a pleasure for me to do so. You have turned out well as may be expected of every good girl if you do as well in the future I really believe that your mother is satisfied with both you and me. But from today I have no longer any right to decide things for you. You must decide for yourself what you will do and what you think is right. I will therefore ask you and you are to choose with entire freedom whether you wish to stay with me any longer or whether now you are to earn your own living you would rather try something else. I can add that I should very much like you to stay here. For a while there was a deep silence then Elizabeth looked up with big tears in her eyes and said I should like to stay with you Kirstie Hurl as long as you are pleased with me. That is what I thought and therefore I have also thought of another thing. Of course you are very young yet but it is not always unwise to put responsibility on young shoulders. You have shown yourself so faithful and capable not only at the Cale House but at the Sator at Whale that I have no fear and interesting both to your care if you wish it to be so. I will now appoint you Head Milkmaid at Hurl Farm End of Chapter 11 End of Elizabeth Longfrog