* * * * *
An elk-hunter has been up here with me in the hut. Nothing much; and his
dog was an ill-tempered brute. I was glad when he went on again. He took
down my copper saucepan from the wall, and used it for his cooking, and
left it black with soot.
It is not my copper saucepan, but was here in the hut, left by some one
who was here before. I only rubbed it with ashes and hung it up on the
wall as a weather-guide for myself. I am rubbing it up again now, for it
is a good thing to have; it turns dim unfailingly when there is rain or
snow coming on.
If Ragnhild had been here, now, she would have polished up that saucepan
herself. But then, again, I tell myself, I would rather see to my own
weather-guides; Ragnhild can find something else to do. And if this place
up in the woods were our clearing, then she would have the children, and
the cows, and the pig. But _my_ copper things I prefer to do myself,
Ragnhild.
I remember a lady, the mistress of a house: she did no work at all, and
saw to nothing, least of all to herself.
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