- Project Runeberg -  Life, letters, and posthumous works of Fredrika Bremer /
379

(1868) [MARC] Author: Fredrika Bremer Translator: Emily Nonnen With: Charlotte Bremer
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SKETCHES. 379

did not sleep, because the horn-ow] sat in the mountain-
ash, crying all night, ‘ Uh, hu, hu!’ and they fancied that the
ugly hand was moving about in the kitchen, but it was so
dark they could not see. At last they fell asleep, and when
they awoke it was broad daylight, and then the gudeman
said: ‘ Get up now, gudewife, and light the fire and make
some coffee.’ And she went and lit the fire, but just as
she was going to take hold of the coffee-pot, what do you
think she saw? Why, the large, ugly hand; it caught
hold of the handle of the coffee-pot and was off with it in
a trice, as if it had flown through the wall. Then the
gudenian flew in a rage, clenched his fist, and said: ‘ Well,
come once more if you dare, you great ugly brute, and Ill
squeeze you so that you shah’t forget it in a hurry: and
now I’ll go to the bailiff’ And he got out of bed and
dressed, and wanted to put on his holiday coat; but just
as he was going to take it down from the peg, he felt some-
thing pulling at it that was stronger than he was himself, and
when he turned round, lo! there was the large ugly hand,
grasping his coat and flying off with it before he had time
to understand how it was done. And thus it went on every
day. Every day came the ugly hand into his cottage, and
took away something or other, either victuals, or clothes, or
household furniture. And then husband and wife got very
. frightened, and they asked each other: ‘How will this
end?’ One day they heard the cow lowing, and they saw
the ugly hand dragging her along by the horns into the
forest. And the poor cow was so lean, and looked back
imploringly to the young wife, and then disappeared in the
forest. ‘Then the wife began to weep so bitterly; but
the husband said he did not like to see all this misery,
and so he emptied the brandy bottle and fell asleep, and
slept as heavily as if he was dead; and the wife did nothing
but cry, and did not know what to do. ‘Now I have not
got a single drop of milk to give to my husband; what
shall I give him to eat?’ And she thought more of her

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