Stories by Foreign Authors: Scandinavian


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Page 25

Lars answered him ably on this last, adding: "Besides, for many
reasons I would be led to doubt whether the affairs of this parish
are to be conducted for the best interests of the living, or for
the memory of the dead; or further, whether it is the love and
hate of a single family which rules, rather than the welfare of
the whole."

Canute answered quickly: "I don't know whether the last speaker
has been the one least benefited not only by the dead of this
family, but also by its still living representative."

In this remark he aimed first at the fact that his powerful
grandfather had, in his day, managed the farm for Lars'
grandfather, when the latter, on his own account, was on a little
visit to the penitentiary.

The straw, which had been moving quickly for a long time, was now
still:

"I am not in the habit of speaking everywhere of myself and
family," said he, treating the matter with calm superiority; then
he reviewed the whole matter in question, aiming throughout at a
particular point. Canute was forced to acknowledge to himself,
that he had never looked upon it from that standpoint, or heard
such reasoning; involuntarily he had to turn his eye upon Lars.
There he stood tall and portly, with clearness marked upon the
strongly-built forehead and in the deep eyes. His mouth was
compressed, the straw still hung playing in its corner, but great
strength lay around. He kept his hands behind him, standing erect,
while his low deep intonations seemed as if from the ground in
which he was rooted. Canute saw him for the first time in his
life, and from his inmost soul felt a dread of him; for
unmistakably this man had always been his superior! He had taken
all Canute himself knew or could impart, but retained only what
had nourished this strong hidden growth.

He had loved and cherished Lars, but now that he had become a
giant, he hated him deeply, fearfully; he could not explain to
himself why he thought so, but he felt it instinctively, while
gazing upon him; and in this forgetting all else, he exclaimed:

"But Lars! Lars! what in the Lord's name ails you?"

He lost all self-control,--"you, whom I have"--"you, who have"--he
couldn't get out another word, and seated himself, only to
struggle against the excitement which he was unwilling to have
Lars see; he drew himself up, struck the table with his fist, and
his eyes snapped from below the stiff disorderly hair which always
shaded them. Lars appeared as if he had not been interrupted, only
turning his head to the assembly, asking if this should be
considered the decisive blow in the matter, for in such a case
nothing more need be said.

Canute could not endure this calmness.

"What is it that has come among us?" he cried. "Us, who to this
day have never debated but in love and upright zeal? We are
infuriated at each other as if incited by an evil spirit;" and he
looked with fiery eyes upon Lars, who answered:

"You yourself surely bring in this spirit, Canute, for I have
spoken only of the case. But you will look upon it only through
your own self-will; now we shall see if your love and upright zeal
will endure, when once it is decided agreeably to our wish."

"Have I not, then, taken good care of the interests of the
parish?"

No reply. This grieved Canute, and he continued:

"Really, I did not think otherwise than that I had accomplished
something;--something for the good of the parish;--but may be I
have deceived myself."

He became excited again, for it was a fiery spirit within him,
which was broken in many ways, and the parting with Lars grieved
him, so he could hardly control himself. Lars answered:

"Yes, I know you give yourself the credit for all that is done
here, and should one judge by much speaking in the meetings, then
surely you have accomplished the most."

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Sun 21st Dec 2025, 19:05