Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - The Beggar
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apprenticeship. My father is away on parish duty, of
course.”
“There is someone driving behind us. I hear the
snow creaking under the sledge runners. Think
if it should be he!”
The child listened and looked round, and then
burst into a storm of tears.
“It is father,” she sobbed. “He will kill me—he
will kill me!”
“H’m, good advice is precious, and prompt advice
is better than silver and gold,” remarked the
beggar.
“See,” cried the child, “you can help me. Take
the rope and draw the sledge, and father will think
it is yours.”
“What shall I do with it afterwards?” asked the
man, as he threw the rope over his shoulders.
“Take it where you like at present, but when it
gets dark, bring it to the parsonage. I’ll be on the
lookout for you. Mind you bring both sledge and
flour; you understand?”
“I’ll try.”
“God have mercy on you if you don’t,” she
shouted, as she sprang up the path to reach home
before her father arrived.
The beggar turned the sledge, and with a heavy
heart guided it back to the tavern.
He, poor wretch, had had his dream while wandering
through the snow with half-frozen feet. He
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