Growth of the Soil Knut Hamsun (summer books .txt) 📖

He must give up his great plans; he was no longer a young gentleman in an office, he would never be a Lensmand, not even live in a town at all. To his father and those at home he made it appear that he was proud at having secured Storborg at the very price he had fixed⁠—it would show them he knew what he was about. But that small triumph did not go very far. He had also the satisfaction of taking over Andresen, the chief clerk, who was thus, as it were, included in the bargain. Aronsen had no longer any use for him, until he had a new place going. It was a pleasant sensation to be Eleseus, when Andresen came up begging to be allowed to stay; here it was Eleseus who was master and head of the business⁠—for the first time in his life.

“You can stay, yes,” he said. “I shall be wanting an assistant to look after the place when I’m away on business⁠—opening up connections in Bergen and Trondhjem,” said he.

And Andresen was no bad man to have, as it soon proved; he was a good worker, and looked after things well when Eleseus was away. ’Twas only at first he had been somewhat inclined to show and play the fine gentleman, and that was the fault of his master Aronsen. It was different now. In the spring, when the bogs were thawed some depth, Sivert came down from Sellanraa to Storborg, to start a bit of ditching for his brother, and lo, Andresen himself went out on the land digging too. Heaven knows what possessed him to do it, for ’twas no work of his, but that was the sort of man he was. It was not thawed deep enough yet, and they could not get as far as they wanted by a long way, but it was something done, at any rate. It was Isak’s old idea to drain the bogs at Storborg and till the land there properly; the bit of a store was only to be an extra, a convenience, to save folk going all the way down to the village for a reel of thread.

So Sivert and Andresen stood there digging, and talking now and again when they stopped for a rest. Andresen had also somehow or other managed to get hold of a gold piece, a twenty-Krone piece, and Sivert would gladly have had the bright thing himself; but Andresen would not part with it⁠—kept it wrapped up in tissue paper in his chest. Sivert proposed a wrestling match for the money⁠—see who could throw the other; but Andresen would not risk it. Sivert offered to stake twenty Kroner in notes against the gold piece, and do all the digging himself into the bargain if he won; but Andresen took offence at that. “Ho,” said he, “and you’d like to go back home, no doubt, and say I’m no good at working on the land!” At last they agreed to set twenty-five Kroner in notes against the gold twenty-Krone piece, and Sivert slipped home to Sellanraa that night to ask his father for the money.

A young man’s trick, the pretty play of youth! A night’s sleep thrown away, to walk miles up and miles down again, and work next day as usual⁠—’twas nothing to a young man in his strength, and a bright gold piece was worth it all. Andresen was a little inclined to make fun of him over the deal, but Sivert was not at a loss; he had only to let fall a word of Leopoldine. “There! I was nearly forgetting. Leopoldine she asked after you.⁠ ⁠…” And Andresen stopped his work of a sudden and went very red.

Pleasant days for them both, draining and ditching, getting up long arguments for fun, and working, and arguing again. Now and then Eleseus would come out and lend a hand, but he soon tired. Eleseus was not strong either of body or will, but a thorough good fellow for all that.⁠ ⁠…

“Here’s that Oline coming along,” Sivert the jester would say. “Now you’ll have to go in and sell her a paper of coffee.” And Eleseus was glad enough to go. Selling Oline some trifle or other meant so many minutes’ rest from throwing heavy clods.

And Oline, poor creature, she might well be needing a pinch of coffee now and again, whether by chance she managed to get the money from Axel to pay for it, or bartered a goats’ milk cheese in exchange. Oline was not altogether what she had been; the work at Maaneland was too hard for her; she was an old woman now, and it was leaving its mark. Not that she ever confessed to any weakness or ageing herself; ho! she would have found plenty to say if she had been dismissed. Tough and irrepressible was Oline; did her work, and found time to wander over to neighbours here or there for a real good gossip. ’Twas her plain right, and there was little gossiping at Maaneland. Axel himself was not given that way.

As for that Barbro case, Oline was displeased, ay, disappointed was Oline. Both of them acquitted! That Brede’s girl Barbro should be let off when Inger Sellanraa had got eight years was not to Oline’s taste at all; she felt an unchristian annoyance at such favouritism. But the Almighty would look to things, no doubt, in His own good time! And Oline nodded, as if prophesying divine retribution at a later date. Naturally, also, Oline made no secret of her dissatisfaction with the finding of the court, more especially when she happened to fall out with her master, Axel, over any little trifle. Then she would deliver herself, in the old soft-spoken way, of much deep and bitter sarcasm. “Ay, ’tis strange how the law’s changed these days, for all the wickedness of Sodom and Gomorrah; but the word of the Lord’s my guide, as ever was, and a blessed refuge