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Updated: May 9, 2025
I put on my hat in haste, gather up the manuscript, thrust it into my pocket, and hurry downstairs. "Listen, Jens Olaj!" I called into the stable, "I am nearly certain I can help you in the afternoon." Arrived at the Town Hall I saw that it was past eleven, and I determined on going to the editor at once.
He stood and turned something over in his mind before he ventured on saying it. "Fine weather! Ahem! I ought to pay my landlady today; you wouldn't be so kind as to lend me five shillings, would you? Only for a few days, sir. You did me a service once before, so you did." "No; I really can't do it, Jens Olaj," I answered.
If Jens Olaj banged the stable door underneath me, or if a dog came into the yard and commenced to bark, it thrilled through my very marrow like icy stabs piercing me from every side. I was pretty well played out. Day after day I strove at my work, begrudging myself the short time it took to swallow my food before I sat down again to write.
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