- Project Runeberg -  Ivar or the Skjuts-Boy /
17

(1852) [MARC] Author: Emilie Flygare-Carlén Translator: Alex L. Krause
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Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - Chapter III. The Pony.

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and have left our cart behind? Yes, yes; at first he wil1 scold
a little, but as soon as he knows what has happened, I’ll bet you
he will say, ’ That was right, my dear Ivar; thou hast acted like
a brave boy. Thou hast also done well, not to follow behind the
cart; I can bring it home when I go there next week with
Nilpersson’s team, and it did the pony no harm that he walked
home free and without the skjut.’ Yes, thus will my father say
but what consolation I shall find from my mother. I am sure she
would lose an eye fo comfort me; but of the buffet she need not
hear a word, for if she did she would not let me go again. Is
it not your opinion also, dear pony, that we had better keep silent
concernng it?"

Ever and anon the pony would manifest his assent by a slight
neigh. Thus they continued their way for some time in silence,
but soon Ivar again halted, and with strained attention listened
to the storm, which was rushing howlingly through a dried heap
of dry rustling branches, to which heap every traveller added
willingly his share, as, according to traction, the body of a
murdered man was buried under it. with a slight thrill of terror
Ivar approached the heap, and speaking in reference to the
strange story of the murder, said, "When this happened there
were certainly different times than to-night. If I had returned
the officer’s blow," said he, thinking of his own affairs, "God
only knows how it would have fared wit me. It was certainly
ruffianly treatment, and I here vow" – with these words Ivar
placed his hand on the dry rustling branches – "I will never,
never become a nobleman, and should I ever happen to meet him
again, when I become a man, he shall make good these blows to
me, for I shall never forget them. Not that I have not
received blows before, but he struck me, because I bore a noble
name, and because I dare do menial service with my father’s
pony. He believes, I think, that it would be better that I
should starve, because my father’s ancestor was a nobleman, than
to earn my bread as a peasant by honest labor."

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