Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - The Drought
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“Dry as that stick have his prayers to heaven
been,” he said.
Another man walking beside him also paused.
He, too, picked up a twig and threw it where the
first lay. “It is a suitable offering to that parson,”
he said. The third in the group followed the example
of the others. “He has been like the drought;
sticks and stones are all he has left us.”
The fourth said, “We give him what he has
given us.”
And the fifth said, “I cast this to his
everlasting shame. May he dry up and wither as this
twig!”
“Dry fodder for the drought-bringing parson!”
said the seventh.
People coming after them saw what they did and
heard what they said. They had an answer now to
their long questioning.
“Give him what he deserves! He has brought the
drought upon us,” was the opinion of the people.
And every one stopped and added his word and
cast his twig, before he passed on.
In the corner between the roads there soon lay
a heap of sticks and twigs—a monument of shame
to the Broby parson.
This was all the revenge the people took. No one
lifted a hand against the vicar or said a harsh word
to him. Despairing hearts cast aside a little of their
burden in throwing a dry twig upon that heap. They
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