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Updated: June 23, 2025
And, suddenly realizing the full extent of his disaster, he broke down and sobbed helplessly. He halted at the edge of the wood just long enough for Klavs to have a feed. He himself had no desire for food then. He was on the highroad again, and sat huddled up in the cart, while the previous evening's debauch sang through his head. At one place a woman came running towards him.
Klavs also stopped for poor women and school-children; Lars Peter and he agreed that all who cared to drive should have that pleasure. But respectable people they passed by; they of course would not condescend to drive with the rag and bone man. They both knew the highroad with its by-ways equally well.
Kristian put it down on the little bench underneath the elder; but when later on he crept past, to see if it had been taken, only the tail and the fins remained the cat had eaten it up. Ditte scolded him well, and Kristian had to puzzle his brains once more. "Father might get Klavs, and take them for a drive on Sunday," said he. "They never get anywhere their legs are too old."
Klavs was in the shafts, and on top of the high load they put the pig, the hens and the three little ones. It was a wonderful beginning to the new life. Lars Peter was the only one who felt sad. He made an excuse to go over the property again, and stood behind the barn, gazing over the fields.
"Love to Mother!" they shouted over and over again. Lars Peter bent down from the top of the load, where he was half buried between the sacks. "Shan't I give her your love too?" asked he. Ditte turned away her head. Then he took his whip and cracked it. And slowly Klavs set off on his journey.
"He's even more fond of the highroad than a human being," Lars Peter used to say of Klavs, and this was true; the horse was always in a good temper whenever preparations were being made for a long journey. For the short trips Klavs did not care at all; it was the real highroad trips with calls to right and left, and stopping at night in some stable, which appealed to him.
Never saw such a beast. If he was mine I'd make him into sausages." "That you shall never do," answered Lars Peter offendedly. "The horse is good enough, though maybe he's not to your liking." The fact was they did not suit each other Johannes and Klavs; they were like fire and water. Johannes preferred to fly along the highroad; but soon found out it wouldn't do.
What he found to enjoy in it would be difficult to say; hardly for the sake of a new experience as with a man. Though God knows 'twas a wise enough rascal! At all events Klavs liked to feel himself on the highroad, and the longer the trip the happier he would be.
It set off with a jerk, and passed the corner of the house like a flash of lightning. The next minute they were up on the highroad, rushing along in a whirl of dust. Johannes bumped up and down on the seat, shouted and flourished his whip, and held the reins over his head. They seemed possessed by the devil. "He shan't touch Klavs again," mumbled Lars Peter as he went in.
"Indeed the firm feels honored, highly honored, I assure you!" The old man bustled round the cartload, taking in the value at a glance, and talking all the time. Suddenly he seized the nag by the head, but quickly let go, as Klavs snapped at him. "We'll drive it down to the other yard," said he.
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