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Updated: May 24, 2025
"Yes, because Bjerregrav follows only poor people," said Jeppe, rather contemptuously. "I can't help it, but I'm always thinking," continued Master Andres; "just supposing it were all a take-in! Suppose he follows them and enjoys the whole thing and then there's nothing! That's why I never like to see a funeral." "Ah, you see, that's the question supposing there's nothing."
"Yes, because he's ashamed of humanity; he wants to make the world more beautiful!" Bjerregrav blushed with embarrassment when he had said this. But Jeppe was beside himself with contempt. "So gaol-birds are ashamed of honest people! So that's why he takes his walks at night! Well, the world would of course be a more beautiful place if it were filled with people like you and Dampe!"
Then the others had to relate what had happened in town during the course of the summer; of the Finnish barque which had stranded in the north, and how the "Great Power" had broken out again. "Now he's sitting in the dumps under lock and key." Bjerregrav took exception to the name they gave him; he called it blasphemy, on the ground that the Bible said that power and might belonged to God alone.
"In Jutland that's where they have so many wrecks!" said the baker. "They say everything is sand there! I've heard that the country is shifting under their feet moving away toward the east. Is it true that they have a post there that a man must scratch himself against before he can sit down?" "My sister has a son who has married a Jutland woman and settled down there," said Bjerregrav.
"Now, Bjerregrav, have you tried it you know what since we last saw you?" Bjerregrav turned crimson. "I am content with the experience which the dear God has chosen for me," he answered, with blinking eyes. "Would you believe it, he is over seventy and doesn't know yet how a woman is made!" "Because, after all I find it suits me best to live alone, and then there's my club foot."
I won't have it!" Bjerregrav was hanging helplessly between his crutches, swinging to and fro, with an eye to the door, but he could not wrest himself away from the enchantment. Then, desperately, he struck down the master's conjuring hand, and profited by the interruption of the incantation to slip away. The master sat there blowing upon his hand.
And she has had one happy day in the midst of all her sorrow." His hands were trembling. "You're a goat!" said Jeppe shortly. "What is Bjerregrav really thinking about when he stands like this looking down into the grave?" asked the young master, in order to divert the conversation. "I am thinking: Now you are lying there, where you are better off than here," said the old tailor simply.
No, and there were no men about while the tailor was being made. A woman stood in a draught at the front door, and there she brought forth the tailor." The baker could not stop himself when once he began to quiz anybody; now that Soren was married, he had recovered all his good spirits. Bjerregrav could not beat this. "You can say what you like about tailors," he succeeded in saying at last.
"In Jutland that's where they have so many wrecks!" said the baker. "They say everything is sand there! I've heard that the country is shifting under their feet moving away toward the east. Is it true that they have a post there that a man must scratch himself against before he can sit down?" "My sister has a son who has married a Jutland woman and settled down there," said Bjerregrav.
"Yes, yes," he said, in a low voice; "everybody thinks something new in order to make himself remarkable, but no one can alter the grave." Master Andres wriggled impatiently to and fro; he could change his mood like a woman. Bjerregrav's presence began to distress him. "Now, I've learned to conjure up spirits; will Bjerregrav make the experiment?" he said suddenly.
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