Ovind: A Story Of Country Life In Norway Part 9

It was growing dark, he stood upon the steps and looked up listening to the gentle sighing of the wind. Then he heard his own name called down from the ridge, quite softly, yet there was no mistaking it, it was repeated twice. He looked up, and could just discern a woman's figure looking down from among the trees.

"Who is that?" he asked.

"I hear you are going away," she said in a low tone, "so I thought I would come and say good-bye to you, seeing you hadn't come to me."

"Dear, is that you, Marit! I'll come up to you."

"No, don't, I've been here so long, and then I should have to stay still longer, and no one knows where I am, so I must be quick home."

"It was kind of you to come," said he.

"I couldn't bear that you should leave in that way Ovind; we have known each other since we were children."

"Yes, we have."

"And now we haven't spoken to each other for half-a-year."

"No we haven't."

"We were separated so strangely that time too."

"Yes, I think I must come up to you."

"Oh no, don't! but tell me, I hope you are not grieved with me?"

"Dear, how could you think so?"

"Good-bye then Ovind, and thank you for all the pleasant times we have had together!"

"Marit!"

"Yes, but now I must go, they will miss me.

"Marit,--Marit!"

"No, I daren't stay longer, Ovind; farewell!"

"Farewell!"

The rest of the evening he was, as it were, in a dream, answering absently when they spoke to him. They attributed this to the thought of his coming departure, which was quite a natural thing, and which certainly did occupy his attention at the moment when the schoolmaster took his leave, and slipped something into his hand, which he afterwards found to be a five dollar piece. Soon, however, it pa.s.sed out of his mind, and he thought only of the words that had come down from the ridge and gone up again.

CHAP. VIII.

BE SURE THAT YOU BURN IT.

Dear Parents,--We have a great deal more to read now, but as I am much more up to the others, it is not such hard work. When I come home I shall make great changes in father's farm, for there is a great deal that is very bad, and it is a wonder that things have hung together as they have. But I shall put all to rights, for I have learnt many things here. I should like to be in a place where I can have things as I now know they should be; so when I am ready I must seek for a good situation. All here say that Jon Hatlen is not so clever as they think at home, but he has his own farm, so that is no matter. Many who come from here get a very high salary, and they are so well paid because this is the best agricultural school in the country. Some say that there is a better in the next county, but that is not true.

There are two words here, the one is called Theory, and the other Practice; one is nothing without the other, but it is well to know them both; the last, however, is the best. Theory is to know the reason why a thing should be done, and practice is to be able to do it. Here we learn both. The Princ.i.p.al is so clever that n.o.body can come up to him.

At the last General Agricultural Meeting he brought forward two subjects for discussion, while the princ.i.p.als from the other schools had none of them more than one, and in the discussions they found he was always right. But the last meeting, when he wasn't there, ended in nothing but talk. The lieutenant, who teaches us surveying, was engaged only because he is so very clever; the other schools have no lieutenant.

The schoolmaster asks if I go to church; yes, certainly I go to church, for now the pastor has got a curate who preaches so that everybody is terrified, and it is a pleasure to hear him. He comes from the college in Christiania, and people think he is too strict, but it is good for them.

At present we are reading history that we have never read before, and it is wonderful to see all that has happened in the world, especially in our country, for we have constantly conquered except when we have lost, and that has been only when we haven't been equal. Now we have more liberty than any other country except America, but there they are not happy; and our liberty we must prize above all things.

Now I must conclude for this time, for I have written a great deal. The schoolmaster will read this letter, and when he answers for you, ask him to tell me some news about one or another, for this he doesn't do.

With best love, Your attached son, Ovind Th.o.r.esen Pladsen.

Dear Parents,

I must now tell you that we have had an examination, and I stand very high in many things. I am high in writing, and land measuring, but not so good in composition. The princ.i.p.al says this is because I have not read enough, and he has given me some books by Ole Vig, which are very easy to understand.

Everything here is so small to what it is in other countries; we understand next to nothing, we learn everything from the Scotch and Swiss, but gardening most from Holland.

I have now been here nearly a year, and I thought I had learnt a great deal; but when I saw what those who left at the last examination knew, and thought that not even they knew anything in comparison to the foreigners, I felt quite disheartened. I am now in the first cla.s.s, and must stay here another year before I am ready. But most of my companions are gone, and I long for home. It seems as if I stood alone, though I certainly do not, but it feels so strange when one has been long away.

What am I to do when I leave here? I shall naturally come home first, and then I must seek for some situation, but it must not be far away.

Good-bye dear parents. Remember me kindly to those who ask after me, and say I am well, but I long to come home.

Your attached son, Ovind Th.o.r.esen Pladsen.

Dear Schoolmaster,

This is to ask you if you will be so good as to send the enclosed letter, but be sure and say nothing about it to anybody. If you will not, then it must be burnt.

Ovind Th.o.r.esen Pladsen.

To Marit Knudsdatter Heidegaard.

You will very likely be surprised to receive a letter from me, but you need not be, for I will only ask how you fare, and this you must let me know as soon as possible and in every respect.

Respecting myself, I have only to say that I shall be ready to leave here in one year.

Respectfully, Ovind Pladsen.

To Ovind Pladsen,

At the Agricultural School.

I duly received your letter from the schoolmaster, and will answer it as you ask me, though I am rather afraid, because you are now so learned; I have a letter book but it doesn't suit. However, I will do my best, and you must take the will for the deed; but you musn't show it, or else you are not what I think you are; and you musn't hide it because any one might easily get hold of it, but you must burn it, that you must promise me. There are a great many things that I wanted to write about, but I dare not. We have had a good Autumn; potatoes are high, and here at Heidegaard we have plenty of them. But the bears have made sad havoc among the stock this Summer; they killed two of Ole Nedregaard's cows, and injured one of our tenant's calves so that it was obliged to be killed.