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Updated: May 13, 2025
"Find your own way out!" said she harshly, fumbling about for Povl, who was sleeping on a bundle of rags; she was angry. "Now you shall go to bed for punishment," said she. Kristian was sobbing all the time. "Don't let mother whip me, don't let her!" he said over and over again. He put his arms round Ditte's neck as if seeking refuge there. And this put an end to her anger.
Tears came into Ditte's eyes when she thought of it. It became like a beast of burden in the fairy tale, and no-one there to defend it. It was long since it had pulled crusts of bread from her mouth with its soft muzzle. Ditte lost her habit of stooping, and began to fill out as she grew up. She enjoyed the better life and the children's happiness the one with the other added to her well-being.
The classes were held every other day, and his did not coincide with Ditte's, who was in a higher class. He had great difficulty in keeping up with the other children, and could hardly be driven off in the mornings. "They call me the young crow," he said, crying. "Then call them names back again," said Ditte; and off he had to go.
"No, to the forest," said the little sister, stroking Ditte's cheeks beseechingly with her dirty little hands, which were blue with cold. She had seen it from afar, and longed to go there. "Yes, to the forest. But you must be good; it's a long way." "May we tell pussy?" Söster looked at Ditte with her big expressive eyes. "Yes, and papa," Kristian joined in with.
He had seated himself under the lamp, and lifting Ditte's frock, he carefully pressed his palm against the blue swollen weals, which smarted with the slightest touch. "It still hurts you're good at thrashing! let's see if you're equally good at healing. Come and kiss the child, where you've struck her, a kiss for each stroke!" He sat waiting. "Well " Sörine's face was full of disgust.
"Granny! mother knows you've hidden the money in the eiderdown," she said suddenly. "I guessed that, my child. Feel!" The old woman guided Ditte's hand to her breast, where a little packet was hidden. "Here 'tis, Maren can take care of what's trusted to her. Ay, ay, 'tis sad to be like us two, no-one to care for us, and always in the way to our own folks most of all.
Since Sören's death sorrow and tears had reddened Maren's eyes with inflammation and turned her eyelids, but her neighbors only took it as another sign of her hardened witchcraft. Her sight was failing too, and she often had to depend upon Ditte's young eyes; and then it would happen that the child took advantage of the opportunity and played pranks.
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.
Then the trail turned towards the sea. She could not follow the lessons today, she was perplexed in mind. Her mother's friendliness had roused her suspicions. It was so contrary to the conviction which the child from long experience had formed as to her mother's disposition. Perhaps she was not such a bad mother when it came to the point. The sugar on the bread almost melted Ditte's heart.
Sörine was not what they had expected her to be, and her home was not up to much. As far as Granny found out from Ditte's description, it was more like a mud-hut, which had been given the name of dwelling-house, barn, etc. In no way could it be compared with the hut on the Naze. But the drive had been beautiful. All who knew Lars Peter Hansen agreed that he was a comical fellow.
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