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Updated: May 24, 2025
"Aren't you going up to play with them?" he asked, when the boys of the neighborhood rushed shouting past the basement window; but Lasse Frederik shook his head. He had played at being everything, from a criminal to a king, so there was nothing more to be had in that direction. He wanted something real now, and in the meantime had dreams of going to sea.
"Wait a little, Lasse Frederik!" they cried. Pelle stood a little while gazing after them, and then with bent head walked slowly into Norrebro Street. It was strange to be walking again in this street, which had played so great a part in his life. The traffic was heavier here than in other places, and the stone paving made it more so.
In olden days the matter might have been settled by a good thrashing, but now things had to be arranged so that they would be lasting; he could no longer buy cheaply. When helping Lasse Frederik in organizing the milk- boys, he pocketed his pride and introduced features from the great conflict in order to show that he was good for something too.
"Aren't you going up to play with them?" he asked, when the boys of the neighborhood rushed shouting past the basement window; but Lasse Frederik shook his head. He had played at being everything, from a criminal to a king, so there was nothing more to be had in that direction. He wanted something real now, and in the meantime had dreams of going to sea.
"Take care the girls don't get running about under the scaffold in working hours, that doesn't look well; and always uphold the fellowship. There is nothing more despicable than the name of strikebreaker." "Hear, hear!" resounded about the table. "A true word!" Frederik sat listening with an embarrassed smile.
He could see from the boy's expression that he did not believe much of it, and intended to investigate the matter more closely. It wounded his sensitive mind and drove him into himself. One day, however, when he was sitting at his work, Lasse Frederik rushed in. "Father, tell me what you did to get the men that were locked into the factory out!" he cried breathlessly.
Five years were yet to elapse before this man and his even more gifted brother, Frederik, on the formation of the Loyal and Conservative Society of August, were persecuted and ridiculed as reactionaries, by the editors of the ascendant Press, who, only a few years later, proved themselves to be ten times more reactionary themselves.
"There's a removing cart!" said Lasse Frederik, and as he spoke the vehicle pulled up in the gutter just in front of them. "What are you doing, Thorvald?" said one of the men; then, staring straight into Ellen's face, "Have you hurt your eye?" The woman had jumped down from the cart. "Oh, get out of the way, you ass!" she said, pushing him aside. "Can't you see they've been turned out?
Suddenly an avalanche seemed to fall from the top to the bottom of the house, a brief, all-pervading storm that brought him back to his home. It was only Lasse Frederik ushering in the day; he took a flight at each leap, called a greeting down to his father, and dashed off to his work, buttoning the last button of his braces as he ran. A little later Ellen came down with coffee.
He wanted to give a good answer, and decided on his measures with much care; he immediately dismissed such workmen as were not suited to the plan. It made bad blood, but there was no help for that. He was busy everywhere, and where he could not go himself, Lasse Frederik went, for the boy had given up his other occupations and helped in the shop and ran errands. Ellen wanted to help too.
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