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Updated: May 22, 2025
Then Marit laughed and said, "He is the son of the houseman at Pladsen." Oyvind had always known that he was a houseman's son; but until now he had never realized it. It made him feel so very little, smaller than all the rest; in order to keep up he had to try and think of all that hitherto had made him happy and proud, from the coasting hill to each kind word.
Only the grandfather went in and out of the houses, and finally up on the highest barn-bridge and looked out. There came running up to him a little boy, whom he must have called. The boy, sure enough, started off in the direction of Pladsen.
"That is not one of the parish songs, is it?" "No, it is not." "Oyvind Pladsen has been much in Ostistuen; perhaps that is one of the songs he has introduced into the parish, for there is always singing where he is." There was no reply to this. The field they were crossing was not in good condition; it required attention. The school-master commented on this, and then Ole stopped.
TO OYVIND PLADSEN: You seem to be displeased with me, and this greatly grieves me. For I did not mean to make you angry. I meant well. I know I have often failed to do rightly by you, and that is why I write to you now; but you must not show the letter to any one. Once I had everything just as I desired, and then I was not kind; but now there is no one who cares for me, and I am very wretched.
"Plucking berries." "That is not true." "No; neither is it." "What were you doing, then?" "I was talking with some one." "Was it with the Pladsen boy?" "Yes." "Hear me now, Marit; to-morrow you leave home." "No." "Listen to me, Marit; I have but one single thing to say, only one: you shall go." "You cannot lift me into the carriage." "Indeed? Can I not?" "No; because you will not." "Will I not?
Farewell, Marit Heidegards, I shall not look at you too much, as I did at that dance. May you both eat well, and sleep well, and get your new web finished, and above all, may you be able to shovel away the snow which lies in front of the church-door. Most respectfully, OYVIND THORESEN PLADSEN.
Now I do not know what to think, and so you must write, for it will not be well with me until you do. Just now I remember best about your coming to the cliff that last evening and what you said then. I will say no more this time, and so farewell. Most respectfully, OYVIND PLADSEN.
In those days while they were preparing at Pladsen for the confirmation, they were also preparing for Oyvind's departure for the agricultural school, for this was to take place the following day. Tailor and shoemaker were sitting in the family-room; the mother was baking in the kitchen, the father working at a chest.
The word "witchcraft" set the boy to thinking, and he suddenly remembered that he had been warned not to speak to an old woman named Martha Pladsen, because she was a witch. Now, she was probably the very one who could tell him what he wanted to know. Her cottage lay close up under the mountain-side, about two miles from his home.
They promised that they would come. Oyvind helped Ole into the conveyance, and they drove off to Nordistuen. The large dog was not the only one up there who was surprised when Ole Nordistuen came driving into the gard with Oyvind Pladsen.
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