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- Ghost Stories
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Ghost Stories
Oh, children of a later day! I have nothing new
to tell you; nothing but what is old and almost
forgotten. Tales from the nursery, where the
children sit on low stools round the white-haired
story-teller, tales from the workmen’s kitchen,
where the farm laborers and crofters gather about
the pine-wood fire. From the leather sheaths
hanging round their necks they draw their knives and
butter themselves thick slices of soft bread, as they
sit about and chat, while the steam rises in clouds
from their wet clothing. And I have tales from the
sitting-room, where old gentlemen sit in their
rocking-chairs and, inspired by a glass of steaming
toddy, talk of the days that are past and gone.
And listening to these stories, a child, standing
at the window on a wintry night, would see, instead
of the clouds, cavaliers sweep over the sky in their
light shays; to her the stars were waxen lights
shining from the old mansion on Borg Point, and the
spinning-wheel which hummed in the next room
was turned by old Ulrika Dillner, for the child’s
head was full of these men and women of the olden
days, and she lived and dreamed among them.
And if you send her, whose whole soul is filled
with those old stories, through the dark garret to
the pantry beyond, to fetch flax or some crackers,
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Project Runeberg, Sun Dec 10 03:53:53 2023
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