Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - VII. Lapland
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“Of course you are a big child or you could not
have seen me, only children can see us goblins.”
“And how old are you, little man?”
“Six hundred years. I happen to know
because I was born the same year as the old fir-tree
outside your nursery window where the big owl
had its nest. Your father always said it was
the oldest tree in the whole forest. Don’t you
remember the big owl, don’t you remember how it
used to sit and blink at you through the window
with its round eyes?”
“Are you married?”
“No. I am single,” said the goblin. “And
you?”
“Not so far, but . . .”
“Don’t! My father always told us that
marriage was a very risky undertaking, and that it
was a wise saying that one could not be too
careful in the choice of one’s mother-in-law.”
“Six hundred years old! Really? You do
not look it! I would never have believed it by
the way you slid down the leg of the table and
ran across the floor when you caught sight of
me sitting up in bed.”
“My legs are all right, thank you, only my eyes
are getting somewhat tired, I can hardly see
anything in the daytime. I have also strange noises
in my ears ever since you big people began that
dreadful blasting in the mountains around us.
Some goblins say you want to rob the Trolls of
their gold and iron, others say it is to make a hole
for that huge, yellow snake with the two black
stripes on his back who is wriggling his way over
fields and forests and across the rivers, his mouth
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