Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - VII. Lapland
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of red hair still hanging on to the back of the
head. The whole house was in commotion. Your
mother fainted and your father gave you the
severest thrashing you had ever had so far and
you were again locked up in a dark room on water
and bread. It was discovered that the night
before you had ridden on your pony to the village
churchyard, had broken into the charnel house
and stolen the skull from a heap of bones
deposited in the cellar. The parson who had
been the headmaster of a boy’s school told your
father that it was an unheard-of thing that a boy
of ten should have committed such an atrocious
sin against God and man. Your mother, who was
a very pious woman, never got over it. She
seemed almost afraid of you and she was not the
only one. She said she could not understand
that she could have given birth to such a monster.
Your father said that surely you had not been
begotten by him but by the devil himself. The
old housekeeper said it was all the fault of your
nurse who had bewitched you by putting
something in your milk and had hung the claw of a
wolf round your neck.”
“But is all this really true what you have told
me about my childhood? I must have been a
strange child indeed!”
“What I have told you is true, every word of
it,” answered the goblin. “What you may tell
to others I am not responsible for. You always
seem to mix up reality with dreams as all children
do.”
“But I am not a child, I shall be twenty-seven
next month.”
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