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Meantime, the effect upon himself is seen and avowed. Between Svoermere and Benoni comes the frankly first-personal narrative of a vagabond who describes himself, upon interrogation, as "Knut Pedersen" which is two-thirds of Knut Pedersen Hamsund and hailing from Nordland which embraces Lofoten.

For a while he idled, and then he had an attack of delirium tremens. When he recovered, shameful and weak, he could no longer resist the constant pressure and he went to Pedersen and asked him for a job. Pedersen was glad to have a white man in his store and Lawson's skill at figures made him useful. From that time his degeneration was rapid. The white people gave him the cold shoulder.

The epitomator in the fourteenth century, and Krantz in the seventeenth, had MSS. before them; and there was that one which Christian Pedersen found and made the basis of the first edition, but which has disappeared. Barth had two manuscripts, which are said to have been burnt in 1636.

"He used to hire a licensed operator, although I believe the engineer, Pedersen, understands the thing pretty well and could use it if necessary." "Do you think it was Pedersen who used it for Mrs. Edwards?" asked Kennedy. "I really don't know," confessed Waldon. "Pedersen denies absolutely that he has touched the thing for weeks. I want you to quiz him. I wasn't able to get him to admit a thing."

The interpreter translated it: first the names "Margit Hansen to Nils Pedersen": and after them, this strange verse from the Song of Solomon strange, I mean, to find written in such a place "Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine." The interpreter, Mr. Scammel, went upstairs, and she told him her story. She belonged to me and was called after me.

Fairbridge, who speaks the native language, and one is brought by Mr. Cripps from another part of Africa, Uganda. Three tales from the Punjaub were collected and translated by Major Campbell. Pedersen, from 'Eventyr fra Jylland, by Mr. Lang, who has modified, where it seemed desirable, all the narratives. The Story of the Hero Makoma

We were bound for the Tagus with a cargo of salted fish which I had bought at Bergen from the Lofoden smacks fish for the Roman Catholics to eat in Lent. Nils Pedersen, the captain, was my husband: Knud Lote was mate." Mr. Scammell having expressed some surprise that so young a man should have been captain, she explained, "He was twenty-two. I made him captain.

Ethel and Brevald blamed him for taking it, since Pedersen, the half-caste, offered him more. But he resented bitterly the thought of being under the orders of a half-caste. When Ethel nagged him he burst out furiously: "I'll see myself dead before I work for a nigger." "You may have to," she said. And in six months he found himself forced to this final humiliation.

Those neighbours of ours, friends and acquaintances, who afterwards saw Margit Pedersen at Vellingey, and for whom this account is mainly written, will not need a description of her. Many disliked her: but nobody denied that she was a lovely woman; and I am certain that nobody could see her face and afterwards forget it.

With a look of thunder the man quitted me, and I sank in black despair. I never saw him again. The fact was that in my hurry I had forgotten the sample blanket that Captain Pedersen had sent me. That was the cause of the catastrophe. Well, I finally succeeded in getting the work executed, and it is certain that no expedition has ever had warmer and stronger clothing than this.