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Updated: June 26, 2025
She would make cheese now and then from the goats' milk, but beyond that she did little save shifting Goldenhorns a dozen times a day where she grazed. "Bring up a good-sized basket, or a box," she had said, "next time you're down to the village." "What d'you want that for?" asked Isak. "I'll just be wanting it," said Inger.
I just looked along to see how things were with you here; it's a pleasure and delight for me to see. As for Goldenhorns, I'll not ask nor speak of her she's fallen into proper ways, as any one can see." They talk for a while companionably; Inger is no longer harsh. The clock on the wall strikes with its sweet little note.
There was no call to hide that bundle of wool, but Oline took care that Isak should not see it. Then the child and Isak and his wife again; the same world again, and the work of the day, with many little joys and big. Goldenhorns was yielding well, the goats had dropped their kids and were yielding well; Inger had a row of red and white cheeses already, stored away to get ripe.
To tell the truth, he had half thought of getting rid of his trouble in a sorry way; to kill off the cow that autumn, scrape the hide, bury the horns, and thus make away with all trace of Cow Goldenhorns in this life. No need for that now. And he grew mightily proud of Inger all at once. "Ay, Inger," says he. "She's one to manage things, that's true. There's not her like nor equal to be found.
"But I can't see there's any living sense in you working yourself to death like you do." "Ho! You just pick up that coat of mine there and put it on you." "Put on your coat? Likely, indeed. I've no time to sit here now, with Goldenhorns ready to calve and all." "H'm, Calving, you say?" "As if you didn't know! But what do you think now about that same calf. Let it stay and be weaned, maybe?"
Early in the new year the roads were good, and Isak started carting down his loads of wood to the village; he had his regular customers now, and the summer-dried wood fetched a good price. One day he and Inger agreed that they should take the fine bull-calf from Goldenhorns and drive it down to Fru Geissler, with a cheese into the bargain. She was delighted, and asked how much it cost.
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