A STORY FROM THE SAND-HILLS [10]
of
the old fishermen. "You will always stay with us now."
But this was not Jurgen's intention; he wanted to see something of
the world. The eel-breeder of Fjaltring had an uncle at Old Skjagen,
who was a fisherman, but also a prosperous merchant with ships upon
the sea; he was said to be a good old man, and it would not be a bad
thing to enter his service. Old Skjagen lies in the extreme north of
Jutland, as far away from the Hunsby dunes as one can travel in that
country; and this is just what pleased Jurgen, for he did not want
to remain till the wedding of Martin and Else, which would take
place in a week or two.
The old fisherman said it was foolish to go away, for now that
Jurgen had a home Else would very likely be inclined to take him
instead of Martin.
Jurgen gave such a vague answer that it was not easy to make out
what he meant- the old man brought Else to him, and she said:
"You have a home now; you ought to think of that."
And Jurgen thought of many things.
The sea has heavy waves, but there are heavier waves in the
human heart. Many thoughts, strong and weak, rushed through Jurgen's
brain, and he said to Else:
"If Martin had a house like mine, which of us would you rather
have?"
"But Martin has no house and cannot get one."
"Suppose he had one?"
"Well, then I would certainly take Martin, for that is what my
heart tells me; but one cannot live upon love."
Jurgen turned these things over in his mind all night. Something
was working within him, he hardly knew what it was, but it was even
stronger than his love for Else; and so he went to Martin's, and
what he said and did there was well considered. He let the house to
Martin on most liberal terms, saying that he wished to go to sea
again, because he loved it. And Else kissed him when she heard of
it, for she loved Martin best.
Jurgen proposed to start early in the morning, and on the
evening before his departure, when it was already getting rather late,
he felt a wish to visit Martin once more. He started, and among the
dunes met the old fisherman, who was angry at his leaving the place.
The old man made jokes about Martin, and declared there must be some
magic about that fellow, of whom the girls were so fond.
Jurgen did not pay any attention to his remarks, but said good-bye
to the old man and went on towards the house where Martin dwelt. He
heard loud talking inside; Martin was not alone, and this made
Jurgen waver in his determination, for he did not wish to see Else
again. On second thoughts, he decided that it was better not to hear
any more thanks from Martin, and so he turned back.
On the following morning, before the sun rose, he fastened his
knapsack on his back, took his wooden provision box in his hand, and
went away among the sand-hills towards the coast path. This way was
more pleasant than the heavy sand road, and besides it was shorter;
and he intended to go first to Fjaltring, near Bovbjerg, where the
eel-breeder lived, to whom he had promised a visit.
The sea lay before him, clear and blue, and the mussel shells
and pebbles, the playthings of his childhood, crunched over his
feet. While he thus walked on his nose suddenly began to bleed; it was
a trifling occurrence, but trifles sometimes are of great
importance. A few large drops of blood fell upon one of his sleeves.
He wiped them off and stopped the bleeding, and it seemed to him as if
this had cleared and lightened his brain. The sea-cale bloomed here
and there in the sand as he passed. He broke off a spray and stuck
it in his hat; he determined to be merry and light-hearted, for he was
going out into the wide world- "a little way out, beyond the bay,"
as the young eels had said. "Beware of bad people who will catch
you, and skin you, and put you in the frying-pan!" he repeated in
his mind, and smiled, for he thought he should find his way through
the world- good courage is a strong weapon!
The sun
the old fishermen. "You will always stay with us now."
But this was not Jurgen's intention; he wanted to see something of
the world. The eel-breeder of Fjaltring had an uncle at Old Skjagen,
who was a fisherman, but also a prosperous merchant with ships upon
the sea; he was said to be a good old man, and it would not be a bad
thing to enter his service. Old Skjagen lies in the extreme north of
Jutland, as far away from the Hunsby dunes as one can travel in that
country; and this is just what pleased Jurgen, for he did not want
to remain till the wedding of Martin and Else, which would take
place in a week or two.
The old fisherman said it was foolish to go away, for now that
Jurgen had a home Else would very likely be inclined to take him
instead of Martin.
Jurgen gave such a vague answer that it was not easy to make out
what he meant- the old man brought Else to him, and she said:
"You have a home now; you ought to think of that."
And Jurgen thought of many things.
The sea has heavy waves, but there are heavier waves in the
human heart. Many thoughts, strong and weak, rushed through Jurgen's
brain, and he said to Else:
"If Martin had a house like mine, which of us would you rather
have?"
"But Martin has no house and cannot get one."
"Suppose he had one?"
"Well, then I would certainly take Martin, for that is what my
heart tells me; but one cannot live upon love."
Jurgen turned these things over in his mind all night. Something
was working within him, he hardly knew what it was, but it was even
stronger than his love for Else; and so he went to Martin's, and
what he said and did there was well considered. He let the house to
Martin on most liberal terms, saying that he wished to go to sea
again, because he loved it. And Else kissed him when she heard of
it, for she loved Martin best.
Jurgen proposed to start early in the morning, and on the
evening before his departure, when it was already getting rather late,
he felt a wish to visit Martin once more. He started, and among the
dunes met the old fisherman, who was angry at his leaving the place.
The old man made jokes about Martin, and declared there must be some
magic about that fellow, of whom the girls were so fond.
Jurgen did not pay any attention to his remarks, but said good-bye
to the old man and went on towards the house where Martin dwelt. He
heard loud talking inside; Martin was not alone, and this made
Jurgen waver in his determination, for he did not wish to see Else
again. On second thoughts, he decided that it was better not to hear
any more thanks from Martin, and so he turned back.
On the following morning, before the sun rose, he fastened his
knapsack on his back, took his wooden provision box in his hand, and
went away among the sand-hills towards the coast path. This way was
more pleasant than the heavy sand road, and besides it was shorter;
and he intended to go first to Fjaltring, near Bovbjerg, where the
eel-breeder lived, to whom he had promised a visit.
The sea lay before him, clear and blue, and the mussel shells
and pebbles, the playthings of his childhood, crunched over his
feet. While he thus walked on his nose suddenly began to bleed; it was
a trifling occurrence, but trifles sometimes are of great
importance. A few large drops of blood fell upon one of his sleeves.
He wiped them off and stopped the bleeding, and it seemed to him as if
this had cleared and lightened his brain. The sea-cale bloomed here
and there in the sand as he passed. He broke off a spray and stuck
it in his hat; he determined to be merry and light-hearted, for he was
going out into the wide world- "a little way out, beyond the bay,"
as the young eels had said. "Beware of bad people who will catch
you, and skin you, and put you in the frying-pan!" he repeated in
his mind, and smiled, for he thought he should find his way through
the world- good courage is a strong weapon!
The sun