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He had been out at sea the whole night and stumbled as he walked. "Why, Povl, little man, got a tummy-ache?" asked he, putting his hand on the boy's forehead. It throbbed, and was burning hot. The boy turned his head away. "He looks really bad," he said, seating himself on the edge of the bed, "he doesn't even know us. It's come on quickly, there was nothing the matter with him this morning."
When she saw him on the downs she almost screamed; Lars Peter tried to reason her out of it. Little Povl came home from the beach one morning feeling ill. He was sick, and his head ached, he was hot one moment and cold the next. Ditte undressed him and put him to bed; then called her father, who was asleep in the attic. Lars Peter hurried down.
It was an eiderdown which was little else than a thick cover, the feathers having disappeared, and those they got when killing poultry were too good to be used the mother wanted them turned into money. Now Povl began to whimper. Ditte took the children's clothes from the chair and spread them over the bed. From their parents' bed came the mother's voice. "You're to be quiet," said she.
They could see it quite plainly the pussy-cat, the moo-cow and everything and little Povl, out of sheer eagerness to hurry up the events, put his fat little hand right down Kristian's throat. Ditte went about her duties smiling in her old-fashioned way at their childish talk.
"Oh, it's about fourteen miles, so of course you'd have to have good eyes," answered Lars Peter, trying to smile. He was not in the humor for fun. Now at last the three little ones were in the big bed, sleeping peacefully, Povl at one end, sister and Kristian at the other. There was just room for Ditte, who had promised to sleep with them the last night.
The daughter-in-law was at home, and sat with the twins in her arms. "I heard he was in your house," said the old one "his strong voice sounded through the walls. You be careful of him!" "He was very kind," said Ditte evasively. "He spoke kindly to father, and brought something for little Povl." "So he brought something was it medicine? Pour it into the gutter at once. It can't do any harm there."
Ay, maybe he was good-tempered and the child'll be allowed to live." Ditte burst into tears; she thought it looked bad for little Povl, if his life depended on the inn-keeper. He was vexed with them because the little ones were not sent to Sunday-school perhaps he was taking his revenge.
They had gained her affection in their own peculiar way; by adding burdens to her little life they had wound themselves round her heart. "How's Povl?" asked she, when they had driven over the big hill, and Granny's hut was out of sight. "Well, you know, he's always crying when you're not at home," said the father quietly. Ditte knew this.
He did not enjoy his food when there were no open mouths round him. "'Tis worth while waking up for this, isn't it?" said he, laughing loudly; his voice was deep and warm again. As he drank his coffee, Söster and Povl hurried into their clothes; they wanted to see him off. They ran in between his and the nag's legs as he was harnessing. The sun was just rising.
Lars Peter often teased him about this; it became quite a fairy tale to the restless Kristian, who wanted to go over the top of every new hill he saw, until at last he fell down in the hamlet again right down into Ditte's stew-pan. He had often been punished for his roaming but to no good. Povl wanted to pick everything to pieces, to see what was inside, or was busy with hammer and nails.
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