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Updated: May 9, 2025
"Get your things on," said the old man impatiently. "And you sit down." A sudden wave of shame came over the girl; snatching up her clothes, she fled into the next room. The master of Moisio walked slowly to the window and sat down heavily, a beaten man. Olof felt a thrill of pity for the old man.
But if you knew how I love you.... Say but one word and I will leave home father and mother and all and follow you like a beggar girl from place to place." "And never care what people said?" "Care? Why should I care for them? What do they know of love?" "Little Hawthorn...." Olof bent her head back and looked straight into her eyes. "Was that a nice thing to say, now?" The girl bowed her head.
There was a strange ring in her voice the young man laid down his pen and sat staring into the fire. It was like talking to a child a queer child, full of feeling, knowing and imagining more than its elders often did. But still and for ever a child, asking simple questions now that were hard to answer without hurt. The girl watched him anxiously. "Don't be angry, Olof," she said entreatingly.
A stillness as in church no sound but the rasp of the knife blade on the wood, and the slow ticking of a clock. Olof works away. The wood he cuts is clean and white, his shirt is clean and white Kyllikki had washed it. Kyllikki has gone out. The cat is making careful toilet, as for a great occasion. Visitors coming! Already steps are heard outside.
He would have turned his head away, or closed his eyes, but could not. He felt as if some great strong man were behind him with a whip, bidding him sternly "Look!" And he looked. "Look closer closer yet!" commanded his tormentor. "A few deep lines and what more?" Olof looked again.
His eyes blazed, a strange smile played about his lips, and his head was lifted defiantly. The onlookers were filled with admiration and wonder never had they seen such a dance! Olof took a second partner, then a third; danced a couple of rounds with each, and took a new.
Having said so much, however, he felt no further obligation, and went on sternly: "I told you last time that I did not wish to see you again. What brings you here now?" The words fell like strokes of an axe; the girl turned pale, and leaned against the wall. "This," said Olof calmly. "When I spoke to you last time, matters did not pass off as they should. I beg your forgiveness for that.
And the trees faced him with lifted head and untroubled brow, without nod or smile, but with the greeting of stern men bidding welcome. "Hei!" Olof answered with a stroke of the axe. And so they talked together, in question and answer and dispute.... "What am I working out here all alone for?" said Olof.
"I've a word to say to the bridegroom, if so be he's time to hear," said the man in a hoarse voice, still keeping the cigar between his teeth. "Why ... here I am, if you want me," said Olof, "though I don't know who you are...." "No," said the man, "you don't know who I am. And yet we're sort of related yes, that's the word for all we've never met before." He took a step forward.
She looks earnestly, with eyes that no deceit can face, and says, 'Olof, what's this they are saying about you...? "'Saying about me...? "And she looks at me still. 'Hard things they say, brother that you play with women's hearts.... Is it true? "And I cannot meet her eyes, and bow my head. "'Olof remember that I too am a woman. "And that cuts me to the heart.
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