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Updated: May 24, 2025
"Yes, yes: 'Who gives to other folks his bread And after suffers in their stead, Why club him, club him, club him dead!" said the master, and went on reading. Bjerregrav sat there sunk in his own thoughts. Suddenly he looked up. "Can you, who are so well read, tell me what keeps the moon from falling? I lay overnight puzzling over it, so as I couldn't sleep.
The big baker twisted himself dolefully. "It must be dreadful with gout like that," said Bjerregrav. "I myself have never had it." "Tailors don't get gout," rejoined Baker Jorgen scornfully. "A tailor's body has no room to harbor it. So much I do know twelve tailors go to a pound." Bjerregrav did not reply. "The tailors have their own topsy-turvy world," continued the baker.
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.
Matters were not so bad on the island, for neither Anker nor Bjerregrav was particularly warlike; yet everybody could see that the town was not behind the rest of the world. Here the vanity of the town was quite in agreement with Master Jeppe, but for the rest he roundly condemned the whole movement.
The master took no further notice of him, but went on reading; and Bjerregrav sank into his dumb pondering; his pale hands feeling one thing after another, as though the most everyday objects were unknown to him. He took hold of things just as a newborn child might have done; one had to smile at him and leave him to sit there, grubbing about like the child he really was.
He always looked ready to fall upon Bjerregrav tooth and nail if the conversation turned on Anker's misfortune. "Dampe!" said Jeppe scornfully, "he has turned both your heads!" "That's a lie!" stammered Bjerregrav. "Anker went wrong later than that after King Frederick granted us liberty. And it's only that I'm not very capable; I have my wits, thank God!"
"And I've heard it's nothing here to what it is on the mainland," said Baker Jorgen. "There the unemployed are numbered in tens of thousands." "How can they live, all those thousands of poor people, if the unemployment is so great?" asked Bjerregrav. "The need is bad enough here in town, where every employer provides his people with their daily bread."
Don't you know that, Andres?" asked Bjerregrav. Master Andres thought they stood on the bottom of the sea, far below the surface; but Uncle Jorgen said: "Nay! Big as the sea is!" "Yes, it's big, for I've been over the whole island," said Bjerregrav self-consciously; "but I never got anywhere where I couldn't see the sea. Every parish in all Bornholm borders on the sea.
The street-urchins always came running up when the word went round that the madness about the "new time" was attacking him. He and Bjerregrav had been friends as boys. Formerly they had been inseparable, and neither of them was willing to do his duty and marry, although each was in a position to keep a wife and children.
"Well, you are a rare bird, aren't you?" he would cry, when Bjerregrav reached the landing and swung himself sideways through the door; and the old man would laugh he had paid this visit daily now for many years.
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