Selma Lagerlöf - The Greatest Works of Selma Lagerlöf

Selma Lagerlöf

The Story of Gösta Berling, The Wonderful Adventures of Nils, Thy Soul Shall Bear Witness, Jerusalem

Translator: Velma Swanston Howard, Pauline Bancroft Flach, Arthur G. Charter, William Frederick Harvey

e-artnow, 2020

Contact: info@e-artnow.org

EAN 4064066057732

The Wonderful Adventures of Nils

Christ Legends

Charlotte Löwensköld

The Emperor of Portugallia

Invisible Links

The Girl from the Marsh Croft

The Treasure

Jerusalem

The Miracles of Antichrist

Thy Soul Shall Bear Witness

The Story of Gösta Berling

Table of Contents

THE BOY

AKKA FROM KEBNEKAISE

THE WONDERFUL JOURNEY OF NILS

GLIMMINGE CASTLE

THE GREAT CRANE DANCE ON KULLABERG

IN RAINY WEATHER

THE STAIRWAY WITH THE THREE STEPS

BY RONNEBY RIVER

KARLSKRONA

THE TRIP TO ÖLAND

ÖLAND'S SOUTHERN POINT

THE BIG BUTTERFLY

LITTLE KARL'S ISLAND

TWO CITIES

THE LEGEND OF SMÅLAND

THE CROWS

THE OLD PEASANT WOMAN

FROM TABERG TO HUSKVARNA

THE BIG BIRD LAKE

ULVÅSA-LADY

THE HOMESPUN CLOTH

THE STORY OF KARR AND GRAYSKIN

THE WIND WITCH

THE BREAKING UP OF THE ICE

THUMBIETOT AND THE BEARS

THE FLOOD

DUNFIN

STOCKHOLM

GORGO, THE EAGLE

ON OVER GÄSTRIKLAND

A DAY IN HÄLSINGLAND

IN MEDELPAD

A MORNING IN ÅNGERMANLAND

WESTBOTTOM AND LAPLAND

OSA, THE GOOSE GIRL, AND LITTLE MATS

WITH THE LAPLANDERS

HOMEWARD BOUND!

LEGENDS FROM HÄRJEDALEN

VERMLAND AND DALSLAND

THE TREASURE ON THE ISLAND

THE JOURNEY TO VEMMINGHÖG

HOME AT LAST

THE PARTING WITH THE WILD GEESE

TABLE OF PRONUNCIATION

Table of Contents

THE ELF

THE WILD GEESE

THE BIG CHECKED CLOTH

Table of Contents

Sunday, March twentieth .

Once there was a boy. He was—let us say—something like fourteen years old; long and loose-jointed and towheaded. He wasn't good for much, that boy. His chief delight was to eat and sleep; and after that—he liked best to make mischief.

It was a Sunday morning and the boy's parents were getting ready to go to church. The boy sat on the edge of the table, in his shirt sleeves, and thought how lucky it was that both father and mother were going away, and the coast would be clear for a couple of hours. "Good! Now I can take down pop's gun and fire off a shot, without anybody's meddling interference," he said to himself.

But it was almost as if father should have guessed the boy's thoughts, for just as he was on the threshold—ready to start—he stopped short, and turned toward the boy. "Since you won't come to church with mother and me," he said, "the least you can do, is to read the service at home. Will you promise to do so?" "Yes," said the boy, "that I can do easy enough." And he thought, of course, that he wouldn't read any more than he felt like reading.

The boy thought that never had he seen his mother so persistent. In a second she was over by the shelf near the fireplace, and took down Luther's Commentary and laid it on the table, in front of the window—opened at the service for the day. She also opened the New Testament, and placed it beside the Commentary. Finally, she drew up the big arm-chair, which was bought at the parish auction the year before, and which, as a rule, no one but father was permitted to occupy.

The boy sat thinking that his mother was giving herself altogether too much trouble with this spread; for he had no intention of reading more than a page or so. But now, for the second time, it was almost as if his father were able to see right through him. He walked up to the boy, and said in a severe tone: "Now, remember, that you are to read carefully! For when we come back, I shall question you thoroughly; and if you have skipped a single page, it will not go well with you."

"The service is fourteen and a half pages long," said his mother, just as if she wanted to heap up the measure of his misfortune. "You'll have to sit down and begin the reading at once, if you expect to get through with it."

With that they departed. And as the boy stood in the doorway watching them, he thought that he had been caught in a trap. "There they go congratulating themselves, I suppose, in the belief that they've hit upon something so good that I'll be forced to sit and hang over the sermon the whole time that they are away," thought he.

But his father and mother were certainly not congratulating themselves upon anything of the sort; but, on the contrary, they were very much distressed. They were poor farmers, and their place was not much bigger than a garden-plot. When they first moved there, the place couldn't feed more than one pig and a pair of chickens; but they were uncommonly industrious and capable folk—and now they had both cows and geese. Things had turned out very well for them; and they would have gone to church that beautiful morning—satisfied and happy—if they hadn't had their son to think of. Father complained that he was dull and lazy; he had not cared to learn anything at school, and he was such an all-round good-for-nothing, that he could barely be made to tend geese. Mother did not deny that this was true; but she was most distressed because he was wild and bad; cruel to animals, and ill-willed toward human beings. "May God soften his hard heart, and give him a better disposition!" said the mother, "or else he will be a misfortune, both to himself and to us."

The boy stood for a long time and pondered whether he should read the service or not. Finally, he came to the conclusion that, this time, it was best to be obedient. He seated himself in the easy chair, and began to read. But when he had been rattling away in an undertone for a little while, this mumbling seemed to have a soothing effect upon him—and he began to nod.

It was the most beautiful weather outside! It was only the twentieth of March; but the boy lived in West Vemminghög Township, down in Southern Skane, where the spring was already in full swing. It was not as yet green, but it was fresh and budding. There was water in all the trenches, and the colt's-foot on the edge of the ditch was in bloom. All the weeds that grew in among the stones were brown and shiny. The beech-woods in the distance seemed to swell and grow thicker with every second. The skies were high—and a clear blue. The cottage door stood ajar, and the lark's trill could be heard in the room. The hens and geese pattered about in the yard, and the cows, who felt the spring air away in their stalls, lowed their approval every now and then.

The boy read and nodded and fought against drowsiness. "No! I don't want to fall asleep," thought he, "for then I'll not get through with this thing the whole forenoon."

But—somehow—he fell asleep.

He did not know whether he had slept a short while, or a long while; but he was awakened by hearing a slight noise back of him.

On the window-sill, facing the boy, stood a small looking-glass; and almost the entire cottage could be seen in this. As the boy raised his head, he happened to look in the glass; and then he saw that the cover to his mother's chest had been opened.

His mother owned a great, heavy, iron-bound oak chest, which she permitted no one but herself to open. Here she treasured all the things she had inherited from her mother, and of these she was especially careful. Here lay a couple of old-time peasant dresses, of red homespun cloth, with short bodice and plaited shirt, and a pearl-bedecked breast pin. There were starched white-linen head-dresses, and heavy silver ornaments and chains. Folks don't care to go about dressed like that in these days, and several times his mother had thought of getting rid of the old things; but somehow, she hadn't had the heart to do it.