"I can't make it out about Fruen," says Ragnhild.
"Here she's come back, and ought to be happy and good tempered as could
be, and instead she's all tears and frowning. I heard the Captain telling
her today: 'Now do be a little reasonable, Lovise,' he said. 'I'm sorry, I
won't do it any more,' says Fruen; and then she cried because she'd been
unreasonable. But that about never doing it any more--she's said that now
every day since she came back, but she's done it again, all the same. Poor
dear, she'd a toothache today; she was simply crying out with the
pain...."
"Go and get on with the potatoes, Ragnhild," said Nils quickly. "We've no
time for gossiping now."
We'd all of us our field-work now; there was much to be done. Nils was
afraid the corn would spoil if he left it too long at the poles; better to
get it in as it was. Well and good; but that meant threshing the worst of
it at once, and spreading the grain over the floor of every shed and
outhouse. Even in our own big living-room there was a large layer of corn
drying on the floor.
Pages:
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393