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Updated: June 19, 2025
The factor told him to come in again for a minute and leading the way to the kitchen-door he ushered little Snjolfur into the warmth. He asked the cook if she couldn't give this nipper here a bite of something to eat, preferably something warm he could do with it. Little Snjolfur would not accept any food. Aren't you hungry? asked the astonished factor.
Before long it was rather better in the cave than out-of-doors, though the most important thing was to have Snjolfur with him for his last days above ground it might be a week or more. It was no easy matter to make a coffin and dig out frozen ground. It would certainly be a poor coffin if he had to make it himself.
In a moment the door was half opened by the factor himself, who, when he caught sight of little Snjolfur and heard that he wanted to speak to him, turned to him again and, after looking him up and down, invited him in. Little Snjolfur put his cap on the counter and did not wait to be asked twice. Well, young man? said the factor.
The one need only look at the other to make himself understood. Among the few words that passed between them, however, was one sentence that came up again and again when old Snjolfur was talking to his son. His words were: The point is to pay your debts to everybody, not owe anybody anything, trust in Providence.
The man who has got something to pot in himself and on himself isn't a pauper, Snjolfur often used to say that, he added, and he straightened himself up proudly and offered his hand to the factor, just as he had seen his father do. Good-bye, he said. I shall come then not tomorrow but the day after.
For a long time little Snjolfur stood by old Snjolfur and stroked his white hair; he murmured something as he did it, but no one heard what he said. But he did not cry and he showed no dismay. The men with the snow- shovels agreed that he was a strange lad, with not a tear for his father's death, and they were half-inclined to dislike him for it. He's a hard one! they said, but not in admiration.
When little Snjolfur had finished making his shelter, he crept inside and sat down with outstretched legs close to his father. By this time the boy was tired out and sleepy. He was on the point of dropping off, when he remembered that he had still not decided how to pay for the funeral. He was wide awake again at once.
To pay his debts Snjolfur had to give up his farm and sell the land. Then he bought the land on the Point just outside the village, knocked up a cabin divided into two by a partition, and a fish-drying shed. When that was done, there was enough left to buy a cockle-shell of a boat. This was the sum of his possessions. It was a poor and dismal life they led there, Snjolfur and his wife.
But in time little Snjolfur grew big enough to go off with his father, whatever the weather. From then on they contentedly shared most days and every night: neither could be without the other for more than a minute. If one of them stirred in his sleep, the other was awake on the instant; and if one could not get to sleep, the other did not close his eyes either.
And the same wages as he had? continued the youngster, who was the sort that likes to know where he stands in good time. But of course, answered the factor, who for once was in no mood to drive a hard bargain. That's good then I shan't go on the parish, said little Snjolfur, and was easier in his mind.
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