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"To be present at the drawing of the great lottery?" "Certainly." "But what good will it do now that Ole's ticket is in the hands of that wretch, Sandgoist?" "It was Ole's wish, and it must be respected," replied the professor. "I hear that the usurer has found no purchaser for the ticket for which he paid so dearly." "I too have heard so, friend Helmboe."
"Nels he bane crazy!" snapped the woman. "Crazy widt de moonshane!" "Moonshine!" repeated Marsh. "Hootch," she explained. "Ole's hootch." Marsh laughed, and Nels grinned, his features for the first time showing an awakened interest. Marsh thought quickly. The woman was evidently the "boss," but she would not talk about something in which she had no faith.
His father, who intended him to be a clergyman, engaged a private tutor named Musaeus, who, when he found that Ole's musical tastes conflicted with his studies, forbade him to play the violin, so that the boy could only indulge at night in an inclination which, under restraint, became a passion.
"I wish you'd give Joe a beating too," she said with grave earnestness. "He's a badder man than Ole. He hurt my mamma. Will you give Joe a beating and tie his naughty hands jus' like that when he wakes up?" She lifted her plump little body on her scuffed toes, her brown, dimpled fingers clutching the radiator to hold her steady while she watched Casey tie Ole's naughty hands behind his back.
"Potstausend! is the fellow making fun of us?" exclaimed the Burgomaster. "Surely the Herr Von Geirstein cannot suppose I would be guilty of so great an impertinence!" exclaimed the stranger. "It is true, the road is somewhat obscure; may I not also have the pleasure of driving you to Olè's?"
He would succeed; his head was still full of plans and he was resourceful as ever. Tidemand gathered his papers together and went over to Ole's office. It was Monday. They had both finished their mail and were momentarily disengaged, but Tidemand had to make a call at the bank; he had arranged an appointment at five. As soon as Ole saw him he laid down his pen and arose to meet him.
And though the race of Tingvold had always been a handsome race, and after this were handsomer than ever, it is maintained that none, before or after, could equal this particular couple. With Ole Haugen legend ends, and now history begins. Ole's bridal march kept its place in the house of Tingvold.
He had shaken hands and asked her to greet Jacob from him, and to say that he, Ole Hoegseth, would not keep close account of these days Lisbeth was taking, since Jacob really needed to speak with his sister. He did not know, of course, that Peter had said the very same thing the evening before. And then she had given her animals over to Ole's care and had begun her long walk down the mountain.
Max, without more ado, hailed the stranger, and begged him to set them, if he could, on the road to Olè's. The new comer bowed courteously to the ladies, and replied, "I shall be most happy to direct you thither, my respectable friends.
That same evening Joel returned to Dal. Meanwhile, Sylvius Hogg was hastening toward Bergen. His tenacious nature and energetic character, though daunted for a moment, were now reasserting themselves. He refused to credit Ole's death, nor would he admit that Hulda was doomed never to see her lover again.
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