What Happened To Inger Johanne Part 9

We crept stealthily into Mrs. Pirk's kitchen. It was pitch dark in there except for a little light through the keyhole of the sitting-room.

"Hus.h.!.+ Keep still!" Mrs. Pirk coughed suddenly and we all quaked.

"Now she will surely come!" Silence again. We were half-choked with laughter.

"I am going to clear my throat," said I. "Ahem!"

"Ahem!" I gave a very loud, strong one the second time.

A chair was hastily shoved aside in the sitting-room, the door opened, a sharp light fell on our three fantastic figures, and Mrs. Pirk stood in the doorway with her spectacles on her nose. I stepped forward.

"Good-pood day-pay!" Mrs. Pirk went like a flash to the fireplace and grabbed a broom-stick.

"Get out!" she cried. "Out with you!"

So out of the door we ran, stumbling and tumbling over each other, Mrs.

Pirk after us with her uplifted broom, out into the moonlit street. Oh!

it was unspeakable fun to be chased out-of-doors that way by Mrs. Pirk!

Well--then we went on to the Macks'.

They were sitting alone in their big light sitting-room, as we went in.

Mrs. Mack was playing "patience" and Mr. Mack sat by her side smoking his long pipe and pointing out with the end of it which card he thought she ought to take next.

We pressed close together around the door and curtsied.

"Why, see! Welcome to youth and joy!" said Mrs. Mack, rising. "What nice young people these are to come to visit a pair of old folks like us!"

Mr. Mack came forward and pointed with the end of his pipe over our heads, saying:

"Up on the sofa with you! Up on the sofa with you, all three!"

So there we sat, as if we were distinguished guests, with the lamp s.h.i.+ning full upon us.

"I see you have a _tine_ with you," said Mr. Mack, looking at the _tine_ I carried. "Have you something to sell, perhaps? And where may these pretty little ladies be from?"

"I-pi sell-pell b.u.t.ter-putter," said I.

"We are from the Land of Fantasy," said Ma.s.sa, without attempting P-speech again.

"Why! They don't make b.u.t.ter in the Land of Fantasy, do they?" asked Mrs. Mack.

Just then the servant came in with an immense tray, and on it was something very different from Mrs. Berg's camphorated cookies, I a.s.sure you! I thought with grief of my mask mouth no bigger than a savings-bank slit.

"And now what about unmasking?" said Mr. Mack. "That is, if these ladies from the Land of Fantasy are willing to liven up an evening for a couple of old people."

Were _willing_! We took our masks off in a jiffy. But, would you believe it? Mr. Mack said he knew me the very minute we came in!

Mrs. Mack took a gla.s.s of Christmas mead and recited:

"Oh! I remember the happy ways Of my gay and innocent childhood days.

And I love to feel that my old heart swells, With the same pure joy that in childhood dwells."

"Mamma composed that herself," said Mr. Mack, gazing admiringly at his wife.

Later in the evening, Mrs. Mack danced the minuet for us, holding up her skirt and singing in a delicate old-lady voice. Then she said:

"Do you remember, Mack? Do you remember that they were playing that air the evening you asked me to marry you?"

"_Do_ I _remember_?" And Mr. Mack and his wife beamed tenderly at each other.

"Think! That such a homely woman as I should get married!" said Mrs.

Mack to us on the sofa.

"You homely!" and Mr. Mack gave the dear old lady a kiss right on the mouth.

"Now we shall see, children, whether, when you get old, you have done like Mack and me. We have danced a minuet our whole life through, and the memories of youth have been our music."

When we went home at the end of the evening, we had our pockets crammed full of apples and nuts and cakes.

It is jolly fun to go out mumming at Christmas! Just try it!

CHAPTER IX

MOTHER BRITA'S GRANDCHILD

It was an afternoon in the spring. There had been a heavy fall of snow the day before and then suddenly a thaw set in. So very warm was the air and the sun so burning hot that the water from the roof gutters came rus.h.i.+ng and tumbling out in regular waterfalls; and big snowslides from the housetops thumped down everywhere, making a rumbling noise all along the streets.

The walking I won't try to describe. There were no paths made, just the frightfully soft melting snow, so deep that it came exactly half-way to your knees. So there wasn't much pleasure in walking, I a.s.sure you; and we hadn't a thing to do.

The steams.h.i.+ps from both east and west were delayed by the snow-storm, so there was no fun in going to the wharf and hanging around there.

Usually it is amusing enough,--always something new to see and something happening; and now and then we have fun seeing the queer seasick people on board the s.h.i.+ps. Just outside of our town there is a horribly rough place in the sea where cross currents meet, and the pa.s.sengers look forlorn enough when the s.h.i.+p gets to the wharf.

But all this isn't really what I meant to tell about now; I started to tell about the afternoon when we played a lot of pranks simply because there wasn't a thing else to do. Truly, that was the reason. Now you shall hear.

Karen, Mina, Munda, and I were together that afternoon. Not a person was to be seen on the street and it was disgustingly quiet and dull everywhere. The only pleasant thing was that there came a tremendously big heavy snowslide right down on the little shoemaker, Jorgen.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The only pleasant thing was that there came a tremendously big, heavy snowslide right down on the little shoemaker.--_Page 123._]

Well, I don't mean that that was a pleasure exactly, you understand, but it made a little variety.

Just as he came around the corner, by Madam Lindeland's, b-r-r-r! there was a rumbling above, and down upon him slid a whole ma.s.s of snow from Madam Lindeland's steep sloping roof. He was knocked completely over, and all we could see of him was a bit of his old brown blouse sticking up through the snow.

In a flash Mina, Munda, Karen, and I were on the spot, digging him out with our hands. Before you could count ten, he was up, but you had better believe he was angry! Not at us exactly, but at the snow, and the thaw, and the town itself that was so badly arranged that people walking in the streets might be killed before they knew it.