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One clay, however, I was just in the humor,
and in the midst of the silence, while Mr.
Gor-risen sat and wrote down marks in the record
book, I sang cut at the top of my voice:
“ ‘Sons of Norway, that ancient kingdom’ ”—
I did not once glance at Mr. Gorrisen but
looked around at all the others who lay over
their desks and laughed till they choked. And
I sang on:
‘‘ ‘Manly and solemn, let the sound rise!’ ”
Not a sound had come from the platform till
that instant. Then I heard behind me the
click, click, click of Mr. Gorrisen’s heels across
the floor and out of the door.
“You’ll catch it! oh, you’ll catch it, Inger
Johanne.”
“ Oh, I wouldn’t be in your shoes for a good
deal!”
“ Well, it was you who teased me to do it,”
I said.
“ Yes, but to think that you should be so
stupid as to do such a thing.”
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