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Updated: May 24, 2025
When he sat thus, pondering over and fingering some perfectly familiar object, people used to say, "Now Bjerregrav's questioning fit is coming on!" For Bjerregrav was an inquirer; he would ask questions about the wind and the weather, and even the food that he ate.
Man's life is a strange thing, Andres." "Ah, and potatoes are bad this year, Bjerregrav!" Neighbor Jorgen filled up the whole doorway. "Lord, here we have that blessed Bjerregrav!" he shouted; "and in state, too! What's on to-day then going courting, are you?" "I've been following!" answered Bjerregrav, in a hushed voice.
The young master smiled. "To the devil with them we'd all go down to the shore and shoot them: they should never land alive!" "They are just a miserable rabble, the lot of them," said Jeppe. "I should very much like to know whether there is a decent citizen among them." "Naturally, it's always the poor who complain of poverty," said Bjerregrav. "So the thing never comes to an end."
"You are trying to get us to swallow one of your stinking lies, Andres. You'd never get a woman to do that, if I know anything of womankind." But Bjerregrav knew that the shoemaker was not lying, and fluttered his thin hands in the air, as though he were trying to keep something invisible from touching his body.
The two young people regarded him as then justification, and he turned their heads with his venomous talk, so that they began to ponder over things which common folk do better to leave alone. Bjerregrav came through this phase with a whole skin, but Anker paid the penalty by losing his wits.
"We shall certainly get a change in the weather." "Things are bad with him just now, poor fellow," said Bjerregrav, shuddering. "It was about this time of the year that he lost his wits." An inner voice admonished Pelle: "Don't sit there with your hands in your lap, but go in and look after your clothes!" But he could not bring himself to do so the difficulties had become too insurmountable.
Now and again, too, he got a little help from Lasse, but Lasse found it more and more difficult to spare anything. Moreover, he had learned to compose his mind by his work. The crazy Anker was knocking on the workshop door. "Bjerregrav is dead!" he said solemnly. "Now there is only one who can mourn over poverty!" Then he went away and announced the news to Baker Jorgen.
"The devil may understand the sea!" cried Master Andres breathlessly. "It is curved like an arch everywhere, and it can get up on its hind legs and stand like a wall, although it's a fluid! And I have read in a book that there is so much silver in the sea that every man in the whole world might be rich." "Thou righteous God!" cried Bjerregrav, "such a thing I have never heard.
Bjerregrav solemnly raised the fingers of his right hand to his lips, a gesture which had all the appearance of a surviving vestige of the sign of the cross. "You and your wits!" hissed Jeppe contemptuously. "You, who throw your money away over the first tramp you meet! And you defend an abominable agitator, who never goes out by daylight like other people, but goes gallivanting about at night!"
It was quite impossible to hold a continuous conversation with him; for even if he did actually make an observation it was sure to be quite beside the mark; Bjerregrav was given to remarking attributes which no one else noticed, or which no one would have dwelt upon.
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