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Updated: September 28, 2025
"I don't know him at all," said Pelle; "he was at sea already when I was still a youngster. Anyhow, I've got to go home to bed now I get to work early in the mornings." They stood on the quay, taking leave of one another. Per Kofod promised to look Pelle up next time he was in port. While they were talking the door of the after-cabin rattled. Howling Peter drew Pelle behind a stack of coal.
"Why, then he's Uncle Kalle's eldest, and in a way my cousin Kalle, that is to say, isn't really his father. His wife had him before she was married he's the son of the owner of Stone Farm." "So he's a Kongstrup, then!" cried Per Kofod, and he laughed loudly. "Well, that's as it should be!" Pelle paid, and they got up to go. The two girls were still standing by the tree.
They drew a red rag from his bulging jacket-pocket, and wiped the worst of the blood away. "What sort of a fellow are you, damn it all, that you can't stand a drubbing?" said Per Kofod. "I didn't call for help," said the man thickly. His lips were swollen to a snout. "But you didn't hit back again! Yet you look as if you'd strength enough.
They were rocking to and fro together, and now and again they glanced at the two young men. "Nothing there for me that's only for you land-lubbers," said Per Kofod. "For look you now, they're like so many little lambs whose ears you've got to tickle.
Jorgen Kofod, as a rule, came clumping in with great wooden shoes, and Jeppe used to scold him. "One wouldn't believe you've got a shoemaker for a brother!" he would say crossly; "and yet we all get our black bread from you." "But what if I can't keep my feet warm now in those damned leather shoes? And I'm full through and through of gout it's a real misery!"
Per Kofod went up to one of them as though she had been a bird that might escape him. Suddenly he seized her round the waist; she withdrew herself slowly from his grip and laughed in his big fair face. He embraced her once again, and now she stood still; it was still in her mind to escape, for she laughingly half-turned away. He looked deep into her eyes, then released her and followed Pelle.
"To-morrow I shall go to the pastrycook and demand that he be sent away. I am commander of the militia, and I know all the townsfolk think as I do." Drejer thought it might be well to pray from the pulpit as in time of plague, and in the bad year when the field-mice infested the country. Next morning Jorgen Kofod looked in on his way to the pastrycook's.
"No, that was due to Father Lasse," said Pelle, and his tone was quite childlike. "He always said I must be good to you because you were in God's keeping." "In God's keeping, did he say?" repeated Per Kofod thoughtfully. "That was a curious thing to say. That's a feeling I've never had. There was nothing in the whole world at that time that could have helped me to stand up for myself.
"To-morrow I shall go to the pastrycook and demand that he be sent away. I am commander of the militia, and I know all the townsfolk think as I do." Drejer thought it might be well to pray from the pulpit as in time of plague, and in the bad year when the field-mice infested the country. Next morning Jorgen Kofod looked in on his way to the pastrycook's.
"That was the old man," whispered Per Kofod. "That's how he treats them all and yet they don't want to give him up." Pelle could not utter a word; he stood there cowering, oppressed as by some terrible burden. Suddenly he pulled himself together, pressed his comrade's hand, and set off quickly between the coal-stacks. After a time he turned aside and followed the young girl at a little distance.
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