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Updated: May 6, 2025
Then Lars Gunnarson pushed his way forward and said he was willing to try. Carl Carslon only laughed at Lars, who at that time looked like a mere stripling, and told him he did not want a small boy who had not even been confirmed. Whereupon Lars promptly informed Carl Carlson that he had not only been confirmed but had also performed military service.
Jan spoke so rationally and delivered his strange message with such sincerity that both the pastor and the others firmly believed at first that Eric of Falla had actually stood outside the door of his old home and talked with Jan. And naturally they all turned their eyes toward Lars Gunnarson to see what effect Jan's words had had on him. Lars only laughed.
When acting as host at a party, so much of the Ol' Bengtsa of bygone days came to the fore it was easy to guess what manner of man he had once been. No one from Falla was present. But it was plain that Lars Gunnarson was in every one's thoughts; which was not surprising since this was the day he had been warned to look out for.
Perceiving his mistake, he tried to look the parson in the face. Somehow he couldn't so turned away, with an oath. "Lars Gunnarson!" exclaimed the pastor in astonishment. "What has come over you?" Lars immediately pulled himself together. "Can't I be rid of this lunatic?" he said, as though Jan were the one he had sworn at.
It was not likely that Lars Gunnarson would take the house from them, they said. The old mistress of Falla would never let that happen. She had always shown herself to be a just and upright person. Besides, the day was not over yet, and Glory Goldie might still be heard from.
Lars Gunnarson was decidedly pleased with himself for having taken the cap and stick away from Jan; it looked as if he had at the same time relieved the peasant of his mania. A fortnight after the auction at Bergvik a catechetical meeting was held at Falla. People had gathered there from the whole district round about Dove Lake, the Ruffluck folk being among them.
He knew that Lars had harboured a grudge against him since that ill-fated day in the forest and had hinted more than once that Jan was getting old and would not be worth his day's wage much longer. Katrina brought on the midday meal, which was hurriedly eaten. Lars Gunnarson and the clerk still sat on the fence, laughing and chatting.
"Then it is just as I thought!" she said, drawing herself up to her full height. "I'll not ask you to tell what took place. It's best for me not to know. But one thing is certain, Lars Gunnarson shall never get his hands on my father's stick!" She had already turned to go, then suddenly faced about. "Here, Jan," she said, holding out the things.
"They are far too good to give away," he remarked to the owner. "They've been used so little that you could easily sell them for new at the fair." The auction hunters had no notion as to why they kept shouting more and more eagerly. Lars Gunnarson showed much distress for every fresh bid; it could never have been to please him they were bidding.
He became so frightened that all his imperial greatness fell from him, and he was like a little child that is ready to cry because its playthings have been taken away. Lars Gunnarson turned to the huge pile of wares stacked beside him, prepared to go on with the auction. Then Jan attempted to do something himself.
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