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Updated: May 26, 2025
So you must come home with us you can very well stay with us, if you don't mind lying on the floor." "But what will your parents say if you go dragging me home?" "I haven't any parents, and Marie and Peter, they'll say nothing. Just come with me, and, after all, you can get work with old Pipman. Where do you come from?" "From Bornholm." "So did we!
The Pipman was coming up the stairs. He held the rope in one hand, and at every turn of the staircase he bowed a few times outward over the rope. The women were shrieking in the surrounding galleries and landings. That amused him. His big, venerable head beamed with an expression of sublime joy. "Ah, hold your tongue!" he said good-naturedly, as soon as he set eyes on Pelle.
Pipman he knows the trick, eh? You do the work and he takes the money and drinks it, eh?" The master shoemaker laughed as at an excellent joke. Pelle turned red. "I should like to be independent as soon as possible," he said. "Yes, yes, you can talk it over with the foreman; but no unionists here, mind that! We've no use for those folks."
"Devil fry me, but a man must sit here and drink the clothes off his body while a lout like you goes for a stroll!" Pelle was standing there counting the week's earnings when he suddenly burst into a loud laugh as his glance fell upon Pipman.
To go strolling about and playing the duke while such as we can sit here working our eyes out of our heads! And we have to go thirsty too! Now don't you dream of being insolent to me, or there'll be an end of the matter. I am excessively annoyed!" He held out his hand in pathetic expostulation, although Pelle had no intention of answering him. He no longer took Pipman seriously.
Wrangling and chattering and the crying of children surged together in a deafening uproar; here was the life of a bee-hive. Here it's really lively, thought Pelle. To-morrow I shall move over here! He had thought over this for a long time, and now there should be an end of his lodging with Pipman.
His blue naked shanks, miserably shivering under his leather apron, looked so enormously ridiculous when contrasted with the fully-dressed body and the venerable beard. "Yes, you grin!" said Pipman, laughing too. "But suppose it was you had to take off your trousers in front of the old clothes' man, and wanted to get upstairs respectably! Those damned brats! 'Pipman's got D. T., they yell.
They afforded him his first glimpse of the great city, and they helped him to get work from Pipman. On the day after the outing in the forest, Pelle moved over to the row of attics, into a room near the "Family," which was standing empty just then. Marie helped him to get tidy and to bring his things along, and with an easier mind he shook himself free of his burdensome relations with Pipman.
"You hold your tongue!" He propped himself up in the doorway and stood there staring. Pelle seized him by the collar. "Where are my Sunday trousers?" he asked angrily. The Pipman had the old ones on, but where were the new? The Pipman stared at him uncomprehending, his drowsy features working in the effort to disinter some memory or other. Suddenly he whistled. "Trousers, did you say, young man?
She locked the door carefully and put the key under the doorstep. Then they set out. There was no reasoning with this sot of a Pipman! He edged round Pelle with an uncertain smile, gazed inquisitively into his face, and kept carefully just out of his reach. "You're angry, aren't you?" he said confidingly, as though he had been speaking to a little child. "Dreadfully angry?
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