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Updated: September 5, 2025
She did not go away next morning; all that day she did not go, but helped about the place; milked the goats, and scoured pots and things with fine sand, and got them clean. She did not go away at all. Inger was her name. And Isak was his name. And now it was another life for the solitary man.
Grey rock and brown, and strewed about with bits of heavy stone, heavy as copper or lead. There might be many things in those heavy stones; gold or silver, like as not he had no knowledge of such things, and did not care. He came to the water; the fly was up, and the fish were biting well that night. He brought home a basket of fish that Inger would open her eyes to see!
Dog ran it down this morning and killed it, and I brought it along...." "Here's your food," said Inger. One bad year never comes alone. Isak had grown patient, and took what fell to his lot. The corn was parched, and the hay was poor, but the potatoes looked like pulling through once more bad enough, all things together, but not the worst.
No wonder that he never touched the sequence of modern events any more. There is some slight, but of course unconscious, resemblance to Macbeth in the external character of Lady Inger. This play has something of the roughness of a mediaeval record, and it depicts a condition of life where barbarism uncouthly mingles with a certain luxury of condition.
"'Tisn't every one has a cooking-stove," said Inger. "Of all the wonders, how we're getting on!..." Haymaking still; Isak bringing in loads and masses of hay, for woodland grass is not the same as meadow grass, more's the pity, but poorer by far.
And Gustaf says he will come sure enough before long. His comrades hear it, and put in a word that they'll all be coming down before long. "Ho!" says Inger. "Aren't you going to stay on the mine, then, come winter?" The men answer cautiously, that it doesn't look like it, but can't be sure. But Gustaf is bolder, and laughs and says, looks like they've scraped out the bit of copper there was.
But Inger had indeed been glad of the ring, and wore it on her right hand, looking fine there when she was sewing; now and again she would let the village girls try it on, and sit with it on their finger for a bit when they came up to ask of this or that. Foolish Isak not to understand that she was proud of it beyond measure!...
There was a curious noise inside.... A child crying Eyah, Herregud!... Well, there it was; but a terrible strange thing. And Inger had never said a word.
When there had been only Eleseus to look after, Inger could never find time to help her husband, being tied to her first-born; now, with two children in the house, it was different; she helped in the fields and managed a deal of odd work here and there; planting potatoes, sowing carrots and turnips. A wife like that is none so easy to find.
"Eight cows!" "That is to say, counting the bull." "Have you sold any butter?" "Ay, and eggs." "What, have we chickens now?" "Ay, of course we have. And a pig." Inger is so astonished at all this that she forgets herself altogether, and stops for a moment "Ptro!" And Isak is proud and keeps on, trying to overwhelm her completely. "That Geissler," he says, "you remember him?
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