|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 22
A letter from Stockholm had announced that he would arrive that evening.
Therefore Otto and Vanda could not sit still. Every moment they ran to
the door, to see if he was coming. Dame Katrina, although she reproved
them for their impatience, felt in the same way herself. Mr. Hersebom
smoked his pipe silently, and was divided in his mind between a longing
to see his adopted son, and the fear that he would not be able to keep
him with them very long.
For the fiftieth time, perhaps, Otto had gone to the door, when he gave
a shout and cried out:
"Mother! Vanda! I believe it is he!"
They all rushed to the door. In the distance, on the road which led from
Bergen, they saw a black object. It grew larger rapidly, and soon took
the shape of a young man, clothed in gray cloth, wearing a fur cap, and
carrying merrily over his shoulders a knapsack of green leather. He had
on snow-shoes, and would soon be near enough to recognize.
The traveler perceived those who were watching before the door, and
taking off his cap, he waved it around his head.
Two minutes later Erick was in the arms of Katrina, Otto, Vanda, and
even Mr. Hersebom, who had left his arm-chair and advanced to the door.
They hugged him, and almost stifled him with caresses. They went into
ecstasies over his improved appearance. Dame Katrina among them all
could not get accustomed to it.
"What--is this the dear babe that I nursed on my knees?" she cried.
"This great boy, with such a frank and resolute air, with these strong
shoulders, this elegant form, and on whose lip I can already see signs
of a mustache. Is it possible?"
The brave woman was conscious of feeling a sort of respect for her
former nursling. She was proud of him, above all for the tears of joy
which she saw in his eyes. For he also was deeply affected.
"Mother, is it really you," he exclaimed. "I can hardly believe that I
am with you all again. The two years have seemed so long to me. I have
missed you all, as I know you have missed me."
"Yes," said Mr. Hersebom, gravely. "Not a day has passed without our
having spoken of you. Morning and evening, and at meal times, it was
your name that was constantly on our lips. But you, my boy, you have not
forgotten us in the grand city? You are contented to return and see the
old country and the old house?"
"I am sure that you do not doubt it," said Erik, as he embraced them
all. "You were always in my thoughts. But above all when the wind blew a
gale. I thought of you, father. I said to myself, Where is he? Has he
returned home in safety? And in the evening I used to read the
meteorological bulletin in the doctor's newspaper, to see what kind of
weather you had had on the coast of Norway; if it was the same as on the
coast of Sweden?--and I found that you have severe storms more often
than we have in Stockholm, which come from America, and beat on our
mountains. Ah! how often I have wished that I could be with you in your
little boat to help you with the sail, and overcome all difficulties.
And on the other hand when the weather was fine it seemed to me as if I
was in prison in that great city, between the tall three-story houses.
Yes! I would have given all the world to be on the sea for one hour, and
to feel as formerly free, and joyfully exhilarated by the fresh air!"
A smile brightened the weather-beaten face of the fisherman.
"His books have not spoiled him," he said. "A joyful season and a happy
New-Year to you, my child!" he added. "Come, let us go to the table.
Dinner is only waiting for you."
When he was once more seated in his old place on the right hand of
Katrina, Erik was able to look around him, and mark the changes that two
years had made in the family. Otto was now a large, robust boy of
sixteen years of age, and who looked twenty. As for Vanda, two years had
added wonderfully to her size and beauty. Her countenance had become
more refined. Her magnificent blonde hair, which lay in heavy braids
upon her shoulders, formed around her forehead a light silvery cloud.
Modest and sweet as usual, she busied herself, almost unconsciously,
with seeing that no one wanted for anything.
"Vanda has grown to be a great girl!" said her mother, proudly. "And if
you knew, Erik, how learned she has become, how hard she has worked and
studied since you left us! She is the best scholar in the school now,
and Mr. Malarius says she is his only consolation for no longer having
you among his pupils."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|