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Updated: June 5, 2025
"You are coming to the funeral to-morrow?" said Martens, insensibly leading the conversation into the direction of his own thoughts. "No," answered Johnsen, drily; "I have to give an address at the Mission Bazaar." "What, between twelve and two? Why, the whole town will be following the funeral." "It is for the women, my address," said the inspector, as he continued his way.
"I remember it very well," answered Johnsen, with a smile; "it was just there I joined in the conversation." "Yes; you declared that you would never, if you were ordained, mention the arms of the country in your prayers." "Neither will I; nothing shall ever make me." Rachel looked at him: he was in just the humour she liked to see him.
"It would please my father and mother too, if they could make your acquaintance," said Otto Stolpe. "Would you care to come home with us?" "I can't very well this evening; I have some one with me," replied Pelle. "You go with them," said Madam Johnsen. "I see some folks from Kristianshavn back there, I can go home with them."
They were in tune with the blind instinct within him. But he had never experienced anything really electrifying only that confused, monotonous surging such as he had heard in his childhood when he listened with his ear to the hollow of the wooden shoe. "Well, it looks as if the whole society was here!" said Madam Johnsen half contemptuously. "Now you can see all the Social-Democrats of Copenhagen.
All the Miss Sparres, of whom there were five, rushed to the window. "It is Mr. Johnsen, the new school-inspector! No, it isn't! Yes, it is! It is Mr. Johnsen! Do you think I don't know him, although he has got a new coat? I declare, he is coming in!" "Clementine, you have taken my cuffs! Yes, you have! They were on the piano. He is only going in to see father.
"It would be most unfortunate," continued the dean, "if a few ill-considered remarks should leave an impression on our congregation that there was any want of agreement, or rather, I should say, difference of opinion, among those who have to work together in the service of the Church." Rachel had left her seat, and was now standing before Mr. Johnsen. "Is that your opinion?"
He must confess, that it was rather that he wished to have an opportunity of addressing the congregation on a personal matter. The dean could quite feel that his connection with the school would lead to the desire of speaking a few words to the parents of the children who were entrusted to his care. But this again was not exactly the subject on which Mr. Johnsen wished to speak.
They've got hold of the wrong end of it!" "Clear off into your hole and hold your tongue, you body-snatcher!" cried Madam Johnsen, spitting with rage. "You've got to stick your brandy-nose into everything!" He stood there, half drunk, leaning over the rail, babbling, teasing, without returning Madam Johnsen's vituperation.
They laughed more than they spoke; if any one introduced a serious subject it was immediately suppressed with a punning remark. Nobody was serious to-day! Pelle moved slowly about, delighting in the crowd, while keeping a look- out for Madam Johnsen and the child, who were to have met him out here. Inwardly, at the back of everything, he was in a serious mood, and was therefore quiet.
He sprang up from the stretcher on which the fireman had laid him and looked excitedly about him. At the same moment the people began quite senselessly to shout his name and to clap their hands, and Madam Johnsen pushed her way through the barrier and threw herself upon him. "Pelle!" she cried, weeping; "oh, you are alive, Pelle!" "Yes, of course I'm alive but that's nothing to cry about."
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