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Updated: June 5, 2025
The result of this was that they all tumbled together into the water, just at a place where it was quite deep, and there they parted, shame-faced. Thus ended this forest battle. Oyvind walked through the forest until he reached the parish road; but Marit met her grandfather up by the fence. This was the dog's fault. "Where do you come from?" "From the wood." "What were you doing there?"
At length the children were all through, the last had come down, and so the school-master must now be talking with the priest. Oyvind glanced at Marit; she was just as happy as before, but she remained in her seat, whether waiting for her own pleasure or for some one else, he knew not. How pretty Marit had become!
Suppose he stayed and worked here under his father and learned to be a smith? The blacksmith's day is over factories do all the work now. And what schooling could he get away here in the country? Aunt Marit offered to send him to a good school. And so the die was cast for him too.
It was like gathering the first straws to make his new nest. And the pale woman with the spectacles looked kindly at him, as if to say: "You are taking her from me, but I forgive you." One day he was sitting in the hotel, reading, when Merle came in. "Will you come for a walk?" she asked. "Good idea. Where shall we go to-day?" "Well, we haven't been to see Aunt Marit at Bruseth yet.
"Plucking berries." "That is not true." "No; neither is it." "What were you doing, then?" "I was talking with some one." "Was it with the Pladsen boy?" "Yes." "Hear me now, Marit; to-morrow you leave home." "No." "Listen to me, Marit; I have but one single thing to say, only one: you shall go." "You cannot lift me into the carriage." "Indeed? Can I not?" "No; because you will not." "Will I not?
"He'll soon be on top again," said her brother, putting the papers back in his pocket. He sat there in front of her quite unruffled. He would let people see that he was not the man to be crushed by a reverse; that there were other things he valued more than money. "Soon be on top?" repeated Aunt Marit. "Has he got round you again with some nonsense?" "He's invented a new mowing machine.
Listen now, Marit, just for sport, you see, just for sport. I am going to tell you that I will crush the backbone of that worthless fellow of yours." "No; you would not dare do so." "I would not dare? Do you say I would not dare? Who should interfere? Who?" "The school-master." "School school school-master. Does he trouble his head about that fellow, do you think?"
He started off to his work, and the son followed. But that evening Oyvind had his plan formed: he would endeavor to become agriculturist for the district, and ask the inspector and the school-master to aid him. "If she only remains firm, with God's help, I shall win her through my work." He waited in vain for Marit that evening, but as he walked about he sang his favorite song:
Oyvind took them. "Thank you!" said he, holding out his hand; hers was warm, and he dropped it at once as if it had burned him. "You have danced a good deal this evening," he murmured. "Yes, I have," she replied, "but you have not danced much," she added. "I have not," he rejoined. "Why did you not dance?" "Oh" "Oyvind!" "Yes." "Why did you sit looking at me so?" "Oh Marit!" "What!"
"I am Marit, mother's little one, father's fiddle, the elf in the house, granddaughter of Ole Nordistuen of the Heide farms, four years old in the autumn, two days after the frost nights, I!" "Are you really?" he said, and drew a long breath, which he had not dared to do so long as she was speaking. "Is it yours, this goat?" asked the girl again. "Ye-es," he said, and looked up.
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