Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - Chapter III. The Pony.
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for my foolish wish to gain glory in foreign countries – which,
however, I never achieved – first by bad crops, and then by one
distemper after another my cattle died, I was, therefore,
unable to pay my debts, and after I had worked for nought
eleven years, I saw my property transferred into the hands of
another, for the debts had overpowered me, and I was no longer
able to help myself, although both your mother and myself, for
I was married in the meantime, worked like slaves."
When Christopher stopped speaking, Ivar advanced toward
him, his whole countenance evincing the utmost interest in the
words he had just heard. "Father," said he, solemnly, "I
understand you. I shall not deny that I have occasionally had an
idea of becoming a soldier, when I should be enabled to rise in
life as well as many another. But here is my hand, I shall
never think of it any more. You have both suffered grief
enough in your life, than that I should give you cause for sorrow.
But one thing you ought not refuse me. I should like to go
into the city, and see the fine sights. While one is out in the
free air, wandering through fields and forests, he finds plenty of
time for meditation, and I shall certainly find out something for
myself."
"Well thought and well spoken, my son," replied Christopher,
joyfully. "I was thinking myself that I should take such a
walk to sell the skin of the poor pony. Our whole hope of
support is now resting on the sale of that."
"Father!" exclaimed Ivar, in a supplicating tone, "could you
not spare me that grief?"
"Then I shall be forced to go myself, with my swollen foot,
and af the same time lose three days of labour. Do you desire
that, Ivar?"
"We are poor people," replied Ivar, in a low voice, "and are
therefore obliged to torture our own hearts. I will take the
hide along."
"And sell it for as much as you can."
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