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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:56:49 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/31993-8.txt b/31993-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c2c508 --- /dev/null +++ b/31993-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,987 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Round the yule-log: Christmas in Norway, by +Peter Christen Asbjörnsen + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: 'Round the yule-log: Christmas in Norway + +Author: Peter Christen Asbjörnsen + +Translator: H. L. Broekstad + +Release Date: April 15, 2010 [EBook #31993] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'ROUND THE YULE-LOG *** + + + + +Produced by Bryan Ness, Anne Grieve and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + | | + | Transcriber's note: | + | | + | This book contains illustrations, several of which are | + | printed in mid-paragraph, either on a separate page or | + | alongside the text itself. To avoid disrupting the flow of | + | the text, the markers for these illustrations have been | + | moved to paragraph breaks. The original illustrations have | + | no captions, but descriptions have been added to them for | + | the enhancement of this text version. | + | | + | The one instance of the OE ligature in the book has been | + | replaced by OE. | + | | + | Punctuation surrounding reported speech has been | + | regularised, all other punctuation and spelling has been | + | left as in the original text. | + | | + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + +[Frontispiece: Picture of a troll pulling girl by the arm] + + +[Illustration: Picture of a laughing troll] + + +'Round the Yule-Log + +Christmas in Norway + + +BY + +P. CHR. ASBJÖRNSEN + + +TRANSLATED BY + +H. L. BROEKSTAD. + + +BOSTON + +DANA ESTES AND CO. + +PUBLISHERS + + +_Copyright, 1895,_ + +BY ESTES AND LAURIAT + +_All rights reserved_ + + +Colonial Press + +Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. + +Boston, Mass., U. S. A. + + + + +'ROUND THE YULE-LOG. + + +The wind was whistling through the old lime and maple trees opposite my +windows, the snow was sweeping down the street, and the sky was black as +a December sky can possibly be here in Christiania. I was in just as +black a mood. It was Christmas Eve,--the first I was to spend away from +the cosey fireside of my home. I had lately received my officer's +commission, and had hoped that I should have gladdened my aged parents +with my presence during the holidays, and had also hoped that I should +be able to show myself in all my glory and splendour to the ladies of +our parish. But a fever had brought me to the hospital, which I had left +only a week before, and now I found myself in the much-extolled state of +convalescence. I had written home for a horse and sledge and my father's +fur coat, but my letter could scarcely reach our valley before the day +after Christmas, and the horse could not be in town before New Year's +Eve. + +My comrades had all left town, and I knew no family with whom I could +make myself at home during the holidays. The two old maids I lodged with +were certainly very kind and friendly people, and they had taken great +care of me in the commencement of my illness, but the peculiar ways and +habits of these ladies were too much of the old school to prove +attractive to the fancies of youth. Their thoughts dwelt mostly on the +past; and when they, as often might occur, related to me some stories of +the town, its people and its customs, these stories reminded me, not +only by their contents, but also by the simple, unaffected way in which +they were rendered, of a past age. + +[Illustration: Picture of two old maids] + +The antiquated appearance of these ladies was also in the strictest +harmony with the house in which they lived. It was one of those old +houses in Custom House Street, with deep windows, long dark passages and +staircases, gloomy rooms and garrets, where one could not help thinking +of ghosts and brownies; in short, just such a house, and perhaps it was +the very one, which Mauritz Hansen has described in his story, "The Old +Dame with the Hood." Their circle of acquaintances was very limited; +besides a married sister and her children, no other visitors came there +but a couple of tiresome old ladies. The only relief to this kind of +life was a pretty niece and some merry little cousins of hers, who +always made me tell them fairy tales and stories. + +I tried to divert myself in my loneliness and melancholy mood by looking +out at all the people who passed up and down the street in the snow and +wind, with blue noses and half-shut eyes. It amused me to see the bustle +and the life in the apothecary's shop across the street. The door was +scarcely shut for a moment. Servants and peasants streamed in and out, +and commenced to study the labels and directions when they came out in +the street. Some appeared to be able to make them out, but sometimes a +lengthy study and a dubious shake of the head showed that the solution +was too difficult. It was growing dusk. I could not distinguish the +countenances any longer, but gazed across at the old building. The +apothecary's house, "The Swan," as it is still called, stood there, +with its dark, reddish-brown walls, its pointed gables and towers, with +weather-cocks and latticed windows, as a monument of the architecture of +the time of King Christian the Fourth. The Swan looked then, as now, a +most respectable and sedate bird, with its gold ring round its neck, its +spur-boots, and its wings stretched out as if to fly. I was about to +plunge myself into reflection on imprisoned birds when I was disturbed +by noise and laughter proceeding from some children in the adjoining +room, and by a gentle, old-maidish knock at my door. + +[Illustration: Picture of an old maid knocking at the door] + +On my requesting the visitor to come in, the elder of my landladies, +Miss Mette, entered the room with a courtesy in the good old style; she +inquired after my health, and invited me, without further ceremony, to +come and make myself at home with them for the evening. "It isn't good +for you, dear Lieutenant, to sit thus alone here in the dark," she +added. "Will you not come in to us now at once? Old Mother Skau and my +brother's little girls have come; they will perhaps amuse you a little. +You are so fond of the dear children." + +[Illustration: Picture of an old woman wearing a cap] + +I accepted the friendly invitation. As I entered the room, the fire from +the large square stove, where the logs were burning lustily, threw a +red, flickering light through the wide-open door over the room, which +was very deep, and furnished in the old style, with high-back, Russia +leather chairs, and one of those settees which were intended for +farthingales and straight up-and-down positions. The walls were adorned +with oil paintings, portraits of stiff ladies with powdered coiffures, +of bewigged Oldenborgians, and other redoubtable persons in mail and +armour or red coats. + +[Illustration: Picture of the narrator looking at the paintings] + +"You must really excuse us, Lieutenant, for not having lighted the +candles yet," said Miss Cicely, the younger sister, who was generally +called "Cilly," and who came towards me and dropped a courtesy, exactly +like her sister's; "but the children do so like to tumble about here +before the fire in the dusk of the evening, and Madam Skau does also +enjoy a quiet little chat in the chimney corner." + +"Oh, chat me here and chat me there! there is nothing you like yourself +better than a little bit of gossip in the dusk of the evening, Cilly, +and then we are to get the blame of it," answered the old asthmatic lady +whom they called Mother Skau. + +"Eh! good evening, sir," she said to me, as she drew herself up to make +the best of her own inflated, bulky appearance. "Come and sit down here +and tell me how it fares with you; but, by my troth, you are nothing but +skin and bones!" + +I had to tell her all about my illness, and in return I had to endure a +very long and circumstantial account of her rheumatism and her +asthmatical ailments, which, fortunately, was interrupted by the noisy +arrival of the children from the kitchen, where they had paid a visit to +old Stine, a fixture in the house. + +"Oh, auntie, do you know what Stine says?" cried a little brown-eyed +beauty. "She says I shall go with her into the hay-loft to-night and +give the brownie his Christmas porridge. But I won't go; I am afraid of +the brownies!" + +"Never mind, my dear, Stine says it only to get rid of you; she dare not +go into the hay-loft herself--the foolish old thing--in the dark, for +she knows well enough she was frightened once by the brownies herself," +said Miss Mette. "But are you not going to say good evening to the +Lieutenant, children?" + +"Oh, is that you, Lieutenant? I did not know you. How pale you are! It +is such a long time since I saw you!" shouted the children all at once, +as they flocked round me. + +"Now you must tell us something awfully jolly! It is such a long time +since you told us anything. Oh, tell us about Buttercup, dear Mr. +Lieutenant, do tell us about Buttercup and Goldentooth!" + +I had to tell them about Buttercup and the dog Goldentooth, but they +would not let me off until I gave them a couple of stories into the +bargain about the brownies at Vager and at Bure, who stole hay from each +other, and who met at last with a load of hay on their backs, and how +they fought till they vanished in a cloud of hay-dust. I had also to +tell them the story of the brownie at Hesselberg, who teased the +house-dog till the farmer came out and threw him over the barn bridge. +The children clapped their hands in great joy and laughed heartily. + +[Illustration: Picture of two brownies fighting] + +"It served him right, the naughty brownie!" they shouted, and asked for +another story. + +"Well," said I, "I will tell you the story of Peter Gynt and the trolls. + +"In the olden days there lived in Kvam a hunter whose name was Peter +Gynt, and who was always roaming about in the mountains after bears and +elks, for in those days there were more forests on the mountains than +there are now, and consequently plenty of wild beasts. + +"One day, shortly before Christmas, Peter set out on an expedition. He +had heard of a farm on Doorefell which was invaded by such a number of +trolls every Christmas Eve that the people on the farm had to move out, +and get shelter at some of their neighbours'. He was anxious to go +there, for he had a great fancy to come across the trolls, and see if he +could not overcome them. He dressed himself in some old ragged clothes, +and took a tame white bear which he had with him, as well as an awl, +some pitch and twine. When he came to the farm he went in and asked for +lodgings. + +[Illustration: Picture of Peter Gynt and his tame white bear] + +"'God help us!' said the farmer; 'we can't give you any lodgings. We +have to clear out of the house ourselves soon and look for lodgings, for +every Christmas Eve we have the trolls here.' + +"But Peter thought he should be able to clear the trolls out,--he had +done such a thing before; and then he got leave to stay, and a pig's +skin into the bargain. The bear lay down behind the fireplace, and +Peter took out his awl and pitch and twine, and began making a big, big +shoe, which it took the whole pig's skin to make. He put a strong rope +in for lacings, that he might pull the shoe tightly together, and, +finally, he armed himself with a couple of handspikes. + +"Shortly he heard the trolls coming. They had a fiddler with them, and +some began dancing, while others fell to eating the Christmas fare on +the table,--some fried bacon, and some fried frogs and toads, and other +nasty things which they had brought with them. During this some of the +trolls found the shoe Peter had made. They thought it must belong to a +very big foot. They all wanted to try it on at once, so they put a foot +each into it; but Peter made haste and tightened the rope, took one of +the handspikes and fastened the rope around it, and got them at last +securely tied up in the shoe. + +"Just then the bear put his nose out from behind the fireplace, where he +was lying, and smelt they were frying something. + +"'Will you have a sausage, pussy?' said one of the trolls, and threw a +hot frog right into the bear's jaws. + +"'Scratch them, pussy!' said Peter. + +"The bear got so angry that he rushed at the trolls and scratched them +all over, while Peter took the other handspike and hammered away at them +as if he wanted to beat their brains out. The trolls had to clear out at +last, but Peter stayed and enjoyed himself with all the Christmas fare +the whole week. After that the trolls were not heard of there for many +years. + +"Some years afterwards, about Christmas time, Peter was out in the +forest cutting wood for the holidays, when a troll came up to him and +shouted,-- + +[Illustration: Picture of a troll shouting at Peter Gynt] + +"'Have you got that big pussy of yours, yet?' + +"'Oh, yes! she is at home behind the fireplace,' said he; 'and she has +got seven kittens, all bigger and larger than herself.' + +"'We'll never come to you any more, then,' said the troll, and they +never did." + +The children were all delighted with this story. + +"Tell us another, dear Lieutenant," they all shouted in chorus. + +"No, no, children! you bother the Lieutenant too much," said Miss +Cicely. "Aunt Mette will tell you a story now." + +"Yes, do, auntie, do!" was the general cry. + +"I don't know exactly what I shall tell you," said Aunt Mette, "but +since we have commenced telling about the brownies, I think I will tell +you something about them, too. You remember, of course, old Kari +Gausdal, who came here and baked bread, and who always had so many tales +to tell you." + +"Oh, yes, yes!" shouted the children. + +"Well, old Kari told me that she was in service at the orphan asylum +some years ago, and at that time it was still more dreary and lonely in +that part of the town than it is now. That asylum is a dark and dismal +place, I can tell you. Well, when Kari came there she was cook, and a +very smart and clever girl she was. She had, one day, to get up very +early in the morning to brew, when the other servants said to her,-- + +"'You had better mind you don't get up too early, and you mustn't put +any fire under the copper before two o'clock.' + +"'Why?' she asked. + +"'Don't you know there is a brownie here? And you ought to know that +those people don't like to be disturbed so early,' they said; 'and +before two o'clock you mustn't light the fire by any means.' + +"'Is that all?' said Kari. She was anything but chicken-hearted. 'I have +nothing to do with that brownie of yours, but if he comes in my way, +why, by my faith, I will send him head over heels through the door.' + +"The others warned her, but she did not care a bit, and next morning, +just as the clock struck one, she got up and lighted the fire under the +copper in the brewhouse; but the fire went out in a moment. Somebody +appeared to be throwing the logs about on the hearth, but she could not +see who it was. She gathered the logs together, one at a time, but it +was of no use, and the chimney would not draw, either. She got tired of +this at last, took a burning log and ran around the room with it, +swinging it high and low while she shouted, 'Be gone, be gone whence you +came! If you think you can frighten me you are mistaken.' 'Curse you!' +somebody hissed in one of the darkest corners. 'I have had seven souls +in this house; I thought I should have got eight in all!' 'But from that +time nobody saw or heard the brownie in the asylum,' said Kari Gausdal." + +[Illustration: Picture of Kari swinging the burning log] + +"I am getting so frightened!" said one of the children. "No, you must +tell us some more stories, Lieutenant; I never feel afraid when you tell +us anything, because you tell us such jolly tales." Another proposed +that I should tell them about the brownie who danced the Halling dance +with the lassie. That was a tale I didn't care much about, as there was +some singing in it. But they would on no account let me off, and I was +going to clear my throat and prepare my exceedingly inharmonious voice +to sing the Halling dance, which belongs to the story, when the pretty +niece, whom I have already referred to, entered the room, to the great +joy of the children and to my rescue. + +"Well, my dear children, I will tell you the story, if you can get +cousin Lizzie to sing the Halling for you," said I, as she sat down, +"and then you'll dance to it yourselves, won't you?" + +Cousin Lizzie was besieged by the children, and had to promise to do the +singing, so I commenced my story. + +"There was, once upon a time,--I almost think it was in Hallingdal,--a +lassie who was sent up into the hay-loft with the cream porridge for the +brownie,--I cannot recollect if it was on a Thursday or on a Christmas +Eve, but I think it was a Christmas Eve. Well, she thought it was a +great pity to give the brownie such a dainty dish, so she ate the +porridge herself, and the melted butter in the bargain, and went up into +the hay-loft with the plain oatmeal porridge and sour milk, in a pig's +trough instead. 'There, that's good enough for you, Master Brownie,' she +said. But no sooner had she spoken the words than the brownie stood +right before her, seized her round the waist, and danced about with her, +which he kept up till she lay gasping for breath, and when the people +came up into the hay-loft in the morning, she was more dead than alive. +But as long as they danced, the brownie sang," (and here Cousin Lizzie +undertook his part, and sang to the tune of the Halling)-- + +[Illustration: Picture of the girl lying in the hay-loft] + + "And you have eaten the porridge for the brownie, + And you shall dance with the little brownie! + + "And have you eaten the porridge for the brownie? + Then you shall dance with the little brownie!" + +I assisted in keeping time by stamping on the floor with my feet, while +the children romped about the room in uproarious joy. + +"I think you are turning the house upside down, children!" said old +Mother Skau; "if you'll be quiet, I'll give you a story." + +The children were soon quiet, and Mother Skau commenced as follows: + +[Illustration: Picture of a Brownie hurling dishes on the floor] + +"You hear a great deal about brownies and fairies and such like beings, +but I don't believe there is much in it. I have neither seen one nor the +other. Of course I have not been so very much about in my lifetime, but +I believe it is all nonsense. But old Stine out in the kitchen there, +she says she has seen the brownie. About the time when I was confirmed +she was in service with my parents. She came to us from a captain's, who +had given up the sea. It was a very quiet place. The captain only took a +walk as far as the quay every day. They always went to bed early. People +said there was a brownie in the house. Well, it so happened that Stine +and the cook were sitting in their room one evening, mending and darning +their things; it was near bedtime, for the watchman had already sung out +'Ten o'clock!' but somehow the darning and the sewing went on very +slowly indeed; every moment 'Jack Nap' came and played his tricks upon +them. At one moment Stine was nodding and nodding, and then came the +cook's turn,--they could not keep their eyes open; they had been up +early that morning to wash clothes. But just as they were sitting thus, +they heard a terrible crash down stairs in the kitchen, and Stine +shouted, 'Lor' bless and preserve us! it must be the brownie.' She was +so frightened she dared scarcely move a foot, but at last the cook +plucked up courage and went down into the kitchen, closely followed by +Stine. When they opened the kitchen door they found all the crockery on +the floor, but none of it broken, while the brownie was standing on the +big kitchen table with his red cap on, and hurling one dish after the +other on to the floor, and laughing in great glee. The cook had heard +that the brownies could sometimes be tricked into moving into another +house when anybody would tell them of a very quiet place, and as she +long had been wishing for an opportunity to play a trick upon this +brownie, she took courage and spoke to him,--her voice was a little +shaky at the time,--that he ought to remove to the tinman's over the +way, where it was so very quiet and pleasant, because they always went +to bed at nine o'clock every evening; which was true enough, as the cook +told Stine later, but then the master and all his apprentices and +journeymen were up every morning at three o'clock and hammered away and +made a terrible noise all day. Since that day they have not seen the +brownie any more at the captain's. He seemed to feel quite at home at +the tinman's, although they were hammering and tapping away there all +day; but people said that the gude-wife put a dish of porridge up in the +garret for him every Thursday evening, and it's no wonder that they got +on well and became rich when they had a brownie in the house. Stine +believed he brought things to them. Whether it was the brownie or not +who really helped them, I cannot say," said Mother Skau, in conclusion, +and got a fit of coughing and choking after the exertion of telling +this, for her, unusually long story. + +[Illustration: Picture of the gude-wife putting porridge in the garret] + +When she had taken a pinch of snuff she felt better, and became quite +cheerful again, and began:-- + +"My mother, who, by the way, was a truthful woman, told a story which +happened here in the town one Christmas Eve. I know it is true, for an +untrue word never passed her lips." + +"Let us hear it, Madame Skau," said I. + +"Yes, tell, tell, Mother Skau!" cried the children. + +She coughed a little, took another pinch of snuff, and proceeded:-- + +"When my mother still was in her teens, she used sometimes to visit a +widow whom she knew, and whose name was,--dear me, what was her +name?--Madame,--yes, Madame Evensen, of course. She was a woman who had +seen the best part of her life, but whether she lived up in Mill Street +or down in the corner by the Little Church Hill, I cannot say for +certain. Well, one Christmas Eve, just like to-night, she thought she +would go to the morning service on the Christmas Day, for she was a +great church-goer, and so she left out some coffee with the girl before +she went to bed, that she might get a cup next morning,--she was sure a +cup of warm coffee would do her a great deal of good at that early hour. +When she woke, the moon was shining into the room; but when she got up +to look at the clock she found it had stopped and that the fingers +pointed to half-past eleven. She had no idea what time it could be, so +she went to the window and looked across to the church. The light was +streaming out through all the windows. She must have overslept herself! +She called the girl and told her to get the coffee ready, while she +dressed herself. So she took her hymn-book and started for church. The +street was very quiet; she did not meet a single person on her way to +church. When she went inside, she sat down in her customary seat in one +of the pews, but when she looked around her she thought that the people +were so pale and so strange,--exactly as if they were all dead. She did +not know any of them, but there were several of them she seemed to +recollect having seen before; but when and where she had seen them she +could not call to mind. When the minister came into the pulpit, she saw +that he was not one of the ministers in the town, but a tall, pale man, +whose face, however, she thought she could recollect. He preached very +nicely indeed, and there was not the usual noisy coughing and hawking +which you always hear at the morning services on a Christmas Day; it was +so quiet, you could have heard a needle drop on the floor,--in fact, it +was so quiet she began to feel quite uneasy and uncomfortable. When the +singing commenced again, a female who sat next to her leant towards her +and whispered in her ear, 'Throw the cloak loosely around you and go, +because if you wait here till the service is over they will make short +work of you. It is the dead who are keeping service.'" + +[Illustration: Picture of a Church with light streaming from the windows] + +"Oh, Mother Skau, I feel so frightened, I feel so frightened!" whimpered +one of the children, and climbed up on a chair. + +"Hush, hush, child!" said Mother Skau. "She got away from them safe +enough; only listen! When the widow heard the voice of the person next +to her, she turned round to look at her,--but what a start she got! She +recognized her; it was her neighbour who died many years ago; and when +she looked around the church, she remembered well that she had seen both +the minister and several of the congregation before, and that they had +died long ago. This sent quite a cold shiver through her, she became +that frightened. She threw the cloak loosely round her, as the female +next to her had said, and went out of the pew; but she thought they all +turned round and stretched out their hands after her. Her legs shook +under her, till she thought she would sink down on the church floor. +When she came out on the steps, she felt that they had got hold of her +cloak; she let it go and left it in their clutches, while she hurried +home as quickly as she could. When she came to the door the clock struck +one, and by the time she got inside she was nearly half dead,--she was +that frightened. In the morning when the people went to church, they +found the cloak lying on the steps, but it was torn into a thousand +pieces. My mother had often seen the cloak before, and I think she saw +one of the pieces, also; but that doesn't matter,--it was a short, pink, +woollen cloak, with fur lining and borders, such as was still in use in +my childhood. They are very rarely seen nowadays, but there are some old +ladies in the town and down at the 'Home' whom I see with such cloaks in +church at Christmas time." + +[Illustration: Picture of a girl running from the church] + +The children, who had expressed considerable fear and uneasiness during +the latter part of the story, declared they would not hear any more such +terrible stories. They had crept up into the sofa and on the chairs, but +still they thought they felt somebody plucking at them from underneath +the table. Suddenly the lights were brought in, and we discovered then, +to our great amusement, that the children had put their legs on to the +table. The lights, the Christmas cake, the jellies, the tarts and the +wine soon chased away the horrible ghost story and all fear from their +minds, revived everybody's spirits, and brought the conversation on to +their neighbours and the topics of the day. Finally, our thoughts took a +flight towards something more substantial, on the appearance of the +Christmas porridge and the roast ribs of pork. We broke up early, and +parted with the best wishes for a Merry Christmas. I passed, however, a +very uneasy night. I do not know whether it was the stories, the +substantial supper, my weak condition, or all these combined, which was +the cause of it; I tossed myself hither and thither in my bed, and got +mixed up with brownies, fairies and ghosts the whole night. Finally, I +sailed through the air towards the church, while some merry sledge-bells +were ringing in my ears. The church was lighted up, and when I came +inside I saw it was our own church up in the valley. There were nobody +there but peasants in their red caps, soldiers in full uniform, country +lasses with their white head-dresses and red cheeks. The minister was in +the pulpit; it was my grandfather, who died when I was a little boy. But +just as he was in the middle of the sermon, he made a somersault--he was +known as one of the smartest men in the parish--right into the middle of +the church; the surplice flew one way and the collar another. "There +lies the parson, and here am I," he said, with one of his well-known +airs, "and now let us have a spring dance!" In an instant the whole of +the congregation was in the midst of a wild dance. A big tall peasant +came towards me and took me by the shoulder and said, "You'll have to +join us, my lad!" + +[Illustration: Picture of a young woman holding a bible] + +At this moment I awoke, and felt some one pulling at my shoulder. I +could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw the same peasant whom I had +seen in my dream leaning over me. There he was, with the red cap down +over his ears, a big fur coat over his arm, and a pair of big eyes +looking fixedly at me. + +"You must be dreaming," he said, "the perspiration is standing in big +drops on your forehead, and you were sleeping as heavily as a bear in +his lair! God's peace and a merry Christmas to you, I say! and +greetings to you from your father and all yours up in the valley. Here's +a letter from your father, and the horse is waiting for you out in the +yard." + +"But, good heavens! is that you, Thor?" I shouted in great joy. It was +indeed my father's man, a splendid specimen of a Norwegian peasant. "How +in the world have you come here already?" + +[Illustration: Picture of Thor leaning over the bed] + +"Ah! that I can soon tell you," answered Thor. "I came with your +favourite, the bay mare. I had to take your father down to Næs, and then +he says to me, 'Thor,' says he, 'it isn't very far to town from here. +Just take the bay mare and run down and see how the Lieutenant is, and +if he is well and can come back with you, you must bring him back along +with you,' says he." + +When we left the town it was daylight. The roads were in splendid +condition. The bay mare stretched out her old smart legs, and we +arrived at length in sight of the dear old house. Thor jumped off the +sledge to undo the gate, and as we merrily drove up to the door we were +met by the boisterous welcome of old Rover, who, in his frantic joy at +hearing my voice, almost broke his chains in trying to rush at me. + +Such a Christmas as I spent that year I cannot recollect before or +since. + + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Round the yule-log: Christmas in +Norway, by Peter Christen Asbjörnsen + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'ROUND THE YULE-LOG *** + +***** This file should be named 31993-8.txt or 31993-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/9/9/31993/ + +Produced by Bryan Ness, Anne Grieve and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: 'Round the yule-log: Christmas in Norway + +Author: Peter Christen Asbjörnsen + +Translator: H. L. Broekstad + +Release Date: April 15, 2010 [EBook #31993] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'ROUND THE YULE-LOG *** + + + + +Produced by Bryan Ness, Anne Grieve and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p class="center">Please read the <a href="#Transnote">Transcriber's Notes</a> at the end of the text.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a name="cover" id="cover"><img src="images/cover.jpg" width="430" height="600" alt="Green +cloth cover with black lettering, illustrated with a picture of a woman in traditional Norwegian costume hanging washing out to dry" title="Front Cover" /></a></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="424" height="600" alt="Picture +of a troll pulling girl by the arm" title="Frontispiece" /></div> + +<p class ="above4"></p> + +<h1>'Round the +Yule-Log</h1> + +<h2>Christmas in Norway</h2> + +<p class="center"><b>BY</b></p> +<p class="center"><b>P. CHR. ASBJÖRNSEN</b></p> +<p class="above2"></p> +<p class="center"><b>TRANSLATED BY +H. L. BRŒKSTAD.</b></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><img src="images/tpage_deco.jpg" width="250" height="419" +alt="Picture of a laughing troll" title="Title-page decoration" /></div> + +<p class="center">BOSTON +DANA ESTES AND CO. +PUBLISHERS</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Copyright, 1895,</i></p> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By Estes and Lauriat</span></p> +<p class="center"><i>All rights reserved</i></p> + +<p class="above4"></p> + +<p class="center">Colonial Press</p> +<p class="center">Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.</p> +<p class="center">Boston, Mass., U. S. A.</p> + +<hr /> + + +<p class="above4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5"></a>[<a href="images/004.png">Page 5</a>]</span></p> + +<h1>'ROUND THE YULE-LOG.</h1> + +<p class="above4">The wind was whistling through the old lime and maple +trees opposite my windows, the snow was sweeping down +the street, and the sky was black as a December sky can +possibly be here in Christiania. I was in just as black a +mood. It was Christmas Eve,—the first I was to spend away +from the cosey fireside of my home. I had lately received my +officer's commission, and had hoped that I should have gladdened +my aged parents with my presence during the holidays, +and had also hoped that I should be able to show myself in all +my glory and splendour to the ladies of our parish. But a +fever had brought me to the hospital, which I had left +only a week before, and now I found myself in the much-extolled +state of convalescence. I had written home for a +horse and sledge and my father's fur coat, but my letter could +scarcely reach our valley before the day after Christmas, and +the horse could not be in town before New Year's Eve.</p> + +<p>My comrades had all left town, and I knew no family with +whom I could make myself at home during the holidays. The +two old maids I lodged with were certainly very kind and +friendly people, and they had taken great care of me in the +commencement of my illness, but the peculiar ways and habits +of these ladies were too much of the old school to prove +attractive to the fancies of youth. Their thoughts dwelt +mostly on the past; and when they, as often might occur, +related to me some stories of the town, its people and its +customs, these stories reminded me, not only by their contents,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6"></a>[<a href="images/005.png">Page 6</a>]</span> +but also by the simple, unaffected way in which they were +rendered, of a past age.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><img src="images/fig_001.jpg" width="350" height="232" +alt="Picture of two old maids" title="page 6 illustration" /></div> + +<p>The antiquated appearance of these ladies was also in the +strictest harmony with the house in which they lived. It was +one of those old houses in Custom House Street, with deep +windows, long dark passages and staircases, gloomy rooms and +garrets, where one could not help thinking of ghosts and +brownies; in short, just such a house, and perhaps it was the +very one, which Mauritz Hansen has described +in his story, "The Old +Dame with the Hood." Their +circle of acquaintances +was very limited; besides +a married sister and her children, +no other visitors came +there but a couple of tiresome old ladies. +The only relief to this kind of life was a pretty niece and +some merry little cousins of hers, who always made me tell +them fairy tales and stories.</p> + +<p>I tried to divert myself in my loneliness and melancholy +mood by looking out at all the people who passed up and +down the street in the snow and wind, with blue noses and +half-shut eyes. It amused me to see the bustle and the life +in the apothecary's shop across the street. The door was +scarcely shut for a moment. Servants and peasants streamed +in and out, and commenced to study the labels and directions +when they came out in the street. Some appeared to be able +to make them out, but sometimes a lengthy study and a +dubious shake of the head showed that the solution was too +difficult. It was growing dusk. I could not distinguish the +countenances any longer, but gazed across at the old building. +The apothecary's house, "The Swan," as it is still called, +stood there, with its dark, reddish-brown walls, its pointed +gables and towers, with weather-cocks and latticed windows, +as a monument of the architecture of the time of King Christian +the Fourth. The Swan looked then, as now, a most +respectable and sedate bird, with its gold ring round its neck, +its spur-boots, and its wings stretched out as if to fly. I was +about to plunge myself into reflection on imprisoned birds +when I was disturbed by noise and laughter +proceeding from some children in the +adjoining room, and by a gentle, old-maidish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a>[Page 7]</span> +knock at my door.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><img src="images/fig_002.jpg" width="385" height="600" alt="Picture +of an old maid knocking at the door" title="page 7 illustration" /></div> + +<p>On my requesting the visitor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a>[Page 8]</span> +to come in, the elder of my +landladies, Miss Mette, entered +the room with a courtesy in +the good old style; she inquired +after my health, and +invited me, without further +ceremony, to come and make +myself at home with them for +the evening. "It isn't good for you, dear Lieutenant, to sit +thus alone here in the dark," she added. "Will you not +come in to us now at once? Old Mother Skau and my +brother's little girls have come; they will perhaps amuse you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a>[<a href="images/008.png">Page 9</a>]</span> +a little. You are so fond of the dear children."</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 400px;"><img src="images/fig_003.jpg" width="250" height="268" alt="Picture +of an old woman wearing a cap" title="page 9 illustration" /></div> + +<p>I accepted the friendly invitation. As I entered the room, +the fire from the large square stove, where the logs were +burning lustily, threw a red, flickering light through the wide-open +door over the room, which was very deep, and furnished +in the old style, with high-back, Russia leather chairs, and one +of those settees which were intended for farthingales and +straight up-and-down positions. The walls were adorned with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a>[<a href="images/009.png">Page 10</a>]</span> +oil paintings, portraits of stiff ladies with powdered coiffures, +of bewigged Oldenborgians, and other redoubtable persons in +mail and armour or red coats.</p> + +<p>"You must really excuse us, Lieutenant, for not having lighted the candles yet," said +Miss Cicely, the younger +sister, who was generally +called "Cilly," and who +came towards me and +dropped a courtesy, exactly +like her sister's; +"but the children do so +like to tumble about +here before the fire in +the dusk of the evening, +and Madam Skau does also +enjoy a quiet little chat in the +chimney corner."</p> + +<p>"Oh, chat me here and chat +me there! there is nothing you +like yourself better than a +little bit of gossip in the dusk +of the evening, Cilly, and then +we are to get the blame of +it," answered the old asthmatic +lady whom they called Mother +Skau.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 500px;"><img src="images/fig_004.jpg" width="300" height="500" alt="Picture +of the narrator looking at the paintings" title="page 10 illustration" /></div><p>"Eh! good evening, sir," she said to me, as she drew herself +up to make the best of her own inflated, bulky appearance. +"Come and sit down here and tell me how it fares with you; +but, by my troth, you are nothing but skin and bones!"</p> + +<p>I had to tell her all about my illness, and in return I had +to endure a very long and circumstantial account of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a>[<a href="images/010.png">Page 11</a>]</span> +rheumatism and her asthmatical ailments, which, fortunately, +was interrupted by the noisy arrival of the children from the +kitchen, where they had paid a visit to old Stine, a fixture in +the house.</p> + +<p>"Oh, auntie, do you know what Stine says?" cried a little +brown-eyed beauty. "She says I shall go with her into the +hay-loft to-night and give the brownie his Christmas porridge. +But I won't go; I am afraid of the +brownies!"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, my dear, +Stine says it only to get rid +of you; she dare not go +into the hay-loft herself—the +foolish old thing—in the +dark, for she knows well +enough she was frightened +once by the brownies herself," +said Miss Mette. "But are you +not going to say good evening +to the Lieutenant, children?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that you, Lieutenant? I did not know you. How +pale you are! It is such a long time since I saw you!" +shouted the children all at once, as they flocked round me.</p> + +<p>"Now you must tell us something awfully jolly! It is such +a long time since you told us anything. Oh, tell us about +Buttercup, dear Mr. Lieutenant, do tell us about Buttercup +and Goldentooth!"</p> + +<p>I had to tell them about Buttercup and the dog Goldentooth, +but they would not let me off until I gave them a +couple of stories into the bargain about the brownies at Vager +and at Bure, who stole hay from each other, and who met at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a>[<a href="images/011.png">Page 12</a>]</span> +last with a load of hay on their backs, and how they fought till +they vanished in a cloud of hay-dust. I had also to tell +them the story of the brownie at Hesselberg, who teased the +house-dog till the farmer came out and threw him over the barn +bridge. The children clapped their hands in great joy and +laughed heartily.</p><div class="figright" style="width: 400px;"><img src="images/fig_005.jpg" width="300" height="268" alt="Picture +of two brownies fighting" title="page 11 illustration" /></div> + +<p>"It served him right, the naughty brownie!" they shouted, +and asked for another story.</p> + +<p>"Well," said I, "I will tell you the story of Peter Gynt and +the trolls.</p> + +<p>"In the olden days there lived in Kvam a hunter whose +name was Peter Gynt, and who was always roaming about +in the mountains after bears and elks, for in those days there +were more forests on the mountains than there are now, and +consequently plenty of wild beasts.</p> + +<p>"One day, shortly before Christmas, Peter set out on an +expedition. He had heard of a farm on Doorefell which was +invaded by such a number of trolls every Christmas Eve that +the people on the farm had to move out, and get shelter at +some of their neighbours'. He was anxious to go there, for +he had a great fancy to come across the trolls, and see if he +could not overcome them. He dressed himself in some old +ragged clothes, and took a tame white bear which he had with +him, as well as an awl, some pitch and twine. When he came +to the farm he went in and asked for lodgings.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Page 13]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><img src="images/fig_006.jpg" width="380" height="600" alt="Picture +of Peter Gynt and his tame white bear" title="page 13 illustration" /></div> + +<p>"'God help us!' said the farmer; 'we can't give you any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Page 14]</a></span> +lodgings. We have to clear out of the house ourselves soon +and look for lodgings, for every Christmas Eve we have the +trolls here.'</p> + +<p>"But Peter thought he should be able to clear the trolls out,—he +had done such a thing before; and then he got leave to +stay, and a pig's skin into the bargain. The bear lay down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a>[<a href="images/014.png">Page 15</a>]</span> +behind the fireplace, and Peter took out his awl and pitch +and twine, and began making a big, big shoe, which it took the +whole pig's skin to make. He put a strong rope in for lacings, +that he might pull the shoe tightly together, and, finally, he +armed himself with a couple of handspikes.</p> + +<p>"Shortly he heard the trolls coming. They had a fiddler +with them, and some began dancing, while others fell to eating +the Christmas fare on the table,—some fried bacon, and some +fried frogs and toads, and other nasty things which they had +brought with them. During this some of the trolls found +the shoe Peter had made. They thought it must belong +to a very big foot. They all wanted to try it on at once, +so they put a foot each into it; but Peter made haste and +tightened the rope, took one of the handspikes and fastened +the rope around it, and got them at last securely tied up in +the shoe.</p> + +<p>"Just then the bear put his nose out from behind the fireplace, +where he was lying, and smelt they were frying something.</p> + +<p>"'Will you have a sausage, pussy?' said one of the trolls, +and threw a hot frog right into the bear's jaws.</p> + +<p>"'Scratch them, pussy!' said Peter.</p> + +<p>"The bear got so angry that he rushed at the trolls and +scratched them all over, while Peter took the other handspike +and hammered away at them as if he wanted to beat their +brains out. The trolls had to clear out at last, but Peter +stayed and enjoyed himself with all the Christmas fare the +whole week. After that the trolls were not heard of there for +many years.</p> + +<p>"Some years afterwards, about Christmas time, Peter was +out in the forest cutting wood for the holidays, when a troll +came up to him and shouted,—</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><img src="images/fig_007.jpg" width="500" height="429" alt="Picture +of a troll shouting at Peter Gynt" title="page 16 illustration" /></div><p>"'Have you got that big pussy of yours, yet?'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a>[<a href="images/015.png">Page 16</a>]</span></p> + +<p>"'Oh, yes! she is at home behind the fireplace,' said he; 'and +she has got seven kittens, all bigger and larger than herself.'</p> + +<p>"'We'll never come to you any more, then,' said the troll, +and they never did."</p> + +<p>The children were all delighted with this story.</p> + +<p>"Tell us another, dear Lieutenant," they all shouted in +chorus.</p> + +<p>"No, no, children! you bother the Lieutenant too much," +said Miss Cicely. "Aunt Mette will tell you a story now."</p> + +<p>"Yes, do, auntie, do!" was the general cry.</p> + +<p>"I don't know exactly what I shall tell you," said Aunt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a>[<a href="images/016.png">Page 17</a>]</span> +Mette, "but since we have commenced telling about the brownies, +I think I will tell you something about them, too. You +remember, of course, old Kari Gausdal, who came here and +baked bread, and who always had so many tales to tell you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, yes!" shouted the children.</p> + +<p>"Well, old Kari told me that she was in service at the +orphan asylum some years ago, and at that time it was still +more dreary and lonely in that part of the town than it is now. +That asylum is a dark and dismal place, I can tell you. Well, +when Kari came there she was cook, and a very smart and +clever girl she was. She had, one day, to get up very early +in the morning to brew, when the other servants said to +her,—</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"><img src="images/fig_008.jpg" width="250" height="437" alt="Picture +of Kari swinging the burning log" title="page 18 illustration" /></div><p>"'You had better mind you don't get up too early, and you +mustn't put any fire under the copper before two o'clock.'</p> + +<p>"'Why?' she asked.</p> + +<p>"'Don't you know there is a brownie here? And you ought +to know that those people don't like to be disturbed so early,' +they said; 'and before two o'clock you mustn't light the fire +by any means.'</p> + +<p>"'Is that all?' said Kari. She was anything but chicken-hearted. +'I have nothing to do with that brownie of yours, +but if he comes in my way, why, by my faith, I will send him +head over heels through the door.'</p> + +<p>"The others warned her, but she did not care a bit, and next +morning, just as the clock struck one, she got up and lighted +the fire under the copper in the brewhouse; but the fire +went out in a moment. Somebody appeared to be throwing +the logs about on the hearth, but she could not see who it was. +She gathered the logs together, one at a time, but it was of no +use, and the chimney would not draw, either. She got tired of +this at last, took a burning log and ran around the room with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a>[<a href="images/017.png">Page 18</a>]</span> +it, swinging it high and low while she shouted, 'Be gone, be +gone whence you came! If you think you can frighten me +you are mistaken.' 'Curse you!' somebody hissed in one +of the darkest corners. 'I have had seven souls in this house; I +thought I should have got eight in all!' 'But from that time +nobody saw or heard the brownie in the +asylum,' said Kari Gausdal."</p> + +<p>"I am getting so frightened!" said +one of the children. "No, you must +tell us some more stories, Lieutenant; +I never feel afraid when you +tell us anything, because you tell us +such jolly tales." Another proposed +that I should tell them about the +brownie who danced the Halling +dance with the lassie. That was a +tale I didn't care much about, as +there was some singing in it. But +they would on no account let me +off, and I was going to clear my +throat and prepare my exceedingly +inharmonious voice to sing +the Halling dance, which belongs +to the story, when the pretty niece, +whom I have already referred to, entered +the room, to the great joy of the children and to my rescue.</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear children, I will tell you the story, if you can +get cousin Lizzie to sing the Halling for you," said I, as she +sat down, "and then you'll dance to it yourselves, won't +you?"</p> + +<p>Cousin Lizzie was besieged by the children, and had to +promise to do the singing, so I commenced my story.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 400px;"><img src="images/fig_009.jpg" width="350" height="243" alt="Picture +of the girl lying in the hay-loft" title="page 19 illustration" /></div> +<p>"There was, once upon a time,—I almost think it was in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a>[<a href="images/018.png">Page 19</a>]</span> +Hallingdal,—a lassie who was sent up into the hay-loft with +the cream porridge for the brownie,—I cannot recollect if it +was on a Thursday or on a Christmas Eve, but I think it was a +Christmas Eve. Well, she thought it was a great pity to give +the brownie such a dainty dish, so she ate the porridge herself, +and the melted butter in the bargain, and went up into the +hay-loft with the plain oatmeal porridge and sour milk, in a +pig's trough instead. 'There, that's good enough for you, +Master Brownie,' she said. But no sooner +had she spoken the words than the +brownie stood right before her, seized +her round the waist, and danced about +with her, which he kept up +till she lay gasping for +breath, and when the +people came up into the +hay-loft in the morning, +she was more dead than +alive. But as long as they danced, the brownie sang," (and +here Cousin Lizzie undertook his part, and sang to the tune +of the Halling)—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And you have eaten the porridge for the brownie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you shall dance with the little brownie!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And have you eaten the porridge for the brownie?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then you shall dance with the little brownie!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I assisted in keeping time by stamping on the floor with my +feet, while the children romped about the room in uproarious +joy.</p> + +<p>"I think you are turning the house upside down, children!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a>[<a href="images/019.png">Page 20</a>]</span> +said old Mother Skau; "if you'll be quiet, I'll give you a +story."</p> + +<p>The children were soon quiet, and Mother Skau commenced +as follows:</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><img src="images/fig_010.jpg" width="384" height="600" alt="Picture +of a Brownie hurling dishes on the floor" title="page 21 illustration" /></div> + +<p>"You hear a great deal about brownies and fairies and +such like beings, but I don't believe there is much in it. I +have neither seen one nor the other. Of course I have not been +so very much about in my lifetime, but I believe it is all +nonsense. But old Stine out in the kitchen there, she says +she has seen the brownie. About the time when I was +confirmed she was in service with my parents. She came +to us from a captain's, who had given up the sea. It was +a very quiet place. The captain only took a walk as far as +the quay every day. They always went to bed early. People +said there was a brownie in the house. Well, it so happened +that Stine and the cook were sitting in their room one evening, +mending and darning their things; it was near bedtime, for +the watchman had already sung out 'Ten o'clock!' but somehow +the darning and the sewing went on very slowly indeed; +every moment 'Jack Nap' came and played his tricks upon +them. At one moment Stine was nodding and nodding, and +then came the cook's turn,—they could not keep their eyes +open; they had been up early that morning to wash clothes. +But just as they were sitting thus, they heard a terrible crash +down stairs in the kitchen, and Stine shouted, 'Lor' bless and +preserve us! it must be the brownie.' She was so frightened +she dared scarcely move a foot, but at last the cook plucked +up courage and went down into the kitchen, closely followed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Page 21]</a></span> +by Stine. When they opened the kitchen door they found +all the crockery on the floor, but none of it broken, while the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Page 22]</a></span> +brownie was standing on the big kitchen table with his red cap +on, and hurling one dish after the other on to the floor, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a>[<a href="images/022.png">Page 23</a>]</span> +laughing in great glee. The cook had heard that the brownies +could sometimes be tricked into moving into another house +when anybody would tell them of a very quiet place, and as +she long had been wishing for an opportunity to play a trick +upon this brownie, she took courage +and spoke to him,—her voice was +a little shaky at the time,—that +he ought to remove to the tinman's +over the way, where it +was so very quiet and pleasant, +because they always went +to bed at nine o'clock every +evening; which was true +enough, as the cook told +Stine later, but then the +master and all his apprentices +and journeymen +were up every +morning at three +o'clock and hammered +away and +made a terrible +noise all day. +Since that +day they +have not +seen the +brownie any more at the captain's. He seemed to feel quite +at home at the tinman's, although they were hammering and +tapping away there all day; but people said that the gude-wife +put a dish of porridge up in the garret for him every +Thursday evening, and it's no wonder that they got on well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a>[<a href="images/023.png">Page 24</a>]</span> +and became rich when they had a brownie in the house. +Stine believed he brought things to them. Whether it was +the brownie or not who really helped them, I cannot say," +said Mother Skau, in conclusion, and got a fit of coughing +and choking after the exertion of telling this, for her, unusually +long story.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><img src="images/fig_011.jpg" width="450" height="520" alt="Picture +of the gude-wife putting porridge in the garret" title="page 23 illustration" /></div> + +<p>When she had taken a pinch of snuff she felt better, and +became quite cheerful again, and began:—</p> + +<p>"My mother, who, by the way, was a truthful woman, told +a story which happened here in the town one Christmas Eve. +I know it is true, for an untrue word never passed her lips."</p> + +<p>"Let us hear it, Madame Skau," said I.</p> + +<p>"Yes, tell, tell, Mother Skau!" cried the children.</p> + +<p>She coughed a little, took another pinch of snuff, and proceeded:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><img src="images/fig_012.jpg" width="450" height="337" alt="Picture +of a Church with light streaming from the windows" title="page 25 illustration" /></div><p>"When my mother still was in her teens, she used sometimes +to visit a widow whom she knew, and whose name was,—dear +me, what was her name?—Madame,—yes, Madame +Evensen, of course. She was a woman who had seen the +best part of her life, but whether she lived up in Mill Street or +down in the corner by the Little Church Hill, I cannot say for +certain. Well, one Christmas Eve, just like to-night, she +thought she would go to the morning service on the Christmas +Day, for she was a great church-goer, and so she left +out some coffee with the girl before she went to bed, that +she might get a cup next morning,—she was sure a cup +of warm coffee would do her a great deal of good at that +early hour. When she woke, the moon was shining into +the room; but when she got up to look at the clock she +found it had stopped and that the fingers pointed to half-past +eleven. She had no idea what time it could be, so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a>[<a href="images/024.png">Page 25</a>]</span> +she went to the window and looked across to the church. +The light was streaming out through all the windows. She +must have overslept herself! She called the girl and told +her to get the coffee ready, while she dressed herself. So +she took her hymn-book and started for church. The street +was very quiet; she did not meet a single person on her +way to church. When she went inside, she sat down in +her customary seat in one of the pews, but when she looked +around her she thought that the people were so pale and so +strange,—exactly as if they were all dead. She did not know +any of them, but there were several of them she seemed to +recollect having seen before; but when and where she had +seen them she could not call to mind. When the minister +came into the pulpit, she saw that he was not one of the +ministers in the town, but a tall, pale man, whose face, however, +she thought she could recollect. He preached very +nicely indeed, and there was not the usual noisy coughing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a>[<a href="images/025.png">Page 26</a>]</span> +and hawking which you always hear at the morning services +on a Christmas Day; it was so quiet, you could have heard +a needle drop on the floor,—in fact, it was so quiet she began +to feel quite uneasy and uncomfortable. When the singing +commenced again, a female who sat next to her leant towards +her and whispered in her ear, 'Throw the cloak loosely +around you and go, because if you wait here till the service +is over they will make short work of you. It is the dead +who are keeping service.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mother Skau, I feel so frightened, I feel so frightened!" +whimpered one of the children, and climbed up on +a chair.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><img src="images/fig_013.jpg" width="333" height="600" alt="Picture +of a girl running from the church" title="page 27 illustration" /></div><p>"Hush, hush, child!" said Mother Skau. "She got away +from them safe enough; only listen! When the widow heard +the voice of the person next to her, she turned round to +look at her,—but what a start she got! She recognized +her; it was her neighbour who died many years ago; and +when she looked around the church, she remembered well +that she had seen both the minister and several of the congregation +before, and that they had died long ago. This sent +quite a cold shiver through her, she became that frightened. +She threw the cloak loosely round her, as the female next +to her had said, and went out of the pew; but she thought +they all turned round and stretched out their hands after her. +Her legs shook under her, till she thought she would sink +down on the church floor. When she came out on the +steps, she felt that they had got hold of her cloak; she let +it go and left it in their clutches, while she hurried home<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Page 27]</a></span> +as quickly as she could. When she came to the door the +clock struck one, and by the time she got inside she was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Page 28]</a></span> +nearly half dead,—she was that frightened. In the morning +when the people went to church, they found the cloak lying +on the steps, but it was torn into a thousand pieces. My<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a>[<a href="images/028.png">Page 29</a>]</span> +mother had often seen the cloak before, and I think she +saw one of the pieces, also; but that doesn't matter,—it +was a short, pink, woollen cloak, with fur lining and borders, +such as was still in use in my childhood. They are very +rarely seen nowadays, but there are some old ladies in the +town and down at the 'Home' whom I see with such cloaks +in church at Christmas time."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"><img src="images/fig_014.jpg" width="250" height="436" alt="Picture +of a young woman holding a bible" title="page 30 illustration" /></div><p>The children, who had expressed considerable fear and +uneasiness during the latter part of the story, declared they +would not hear any more such terrible stories. They had +crept up into the sofa and on the chairs, but still they +thought they felt somebody plucking at them from underneath +the table. Suddenly the lights were brought in, and +we discovered then, to our great amusement, that the children +had put their legs on to the table. The lights, the Christmas +cake, the jellies, the tarts and the wine soon chased away +the horrible ghost story and all fear from their minds, revived +everybody's spirits, and brought the conversation on to their +neighbours and the topics of the day. Finally, our thoughts +took a flight towards something more substantial, on the +appearance of the Christmas porridge and the roast ribs of +pork. We broke up early, and parted with the best wishes +for a Merry Christmas. I passed, however, a very uneasy +night. I do not know whether it was the stories, the substantial +supper, my weak condition, or all these combined, +which was the cause of it; I tossed myself hither and thither +in my bed, and got mixed up with brownies, fairies and ghosts +the whole night. Finally, I sailed through the air towards +the church, while some merry sledge-bells were ringing in +my ears. The church was lighted up, and when I came +inside I saw it was our own church up in the valley. There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a>[<a href="images/029.png">Page 30</a>]</span> +were nobody there but peasants in their red caps, soldiers +in full uniform, country lasses with their white head-dresses +and red cheeks. The minister was in the pulpit; it was +my grandfather, who died when I was a little boy. But just +as he was in the middle of the sermon, he +made a somersault—he was known as +one of the smartest men in the parish—right +into the middle of the +church; the surplice flew one +way and the collar another. +"There lies the parson, and +here am I," he said, with one +of his well-known airs, "and +now let us have a spring +dance!" In an instant the +whole of the congregation was +in the midst of a wild dance. +A big tall peasant came towards +me and took me by +the shoulder and said, "You'll +have to join us, my lad!"</p> + +<p>At this moment I awoke, and +felt some one pulling at my shoulder. +I could scarcely believe my eyes +when I saw the same peasant whom I +had seen in my dream leaning over me. +There he was, with the red cap down over his ears, a big +fur coat over his arm, and a pair of big eyes looking fixedly +at me.</p> + +<p>"You must be dreaming," he said, "the perspiration is +standing in big drops on your forehead, and you were sleeping +as heavily as a bear in his lair! God's peace and a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a>[<a href="images/030.png">Page 31</a>]</span> +merry Christmas to you, I say! and greetings to you from +your father and all yours up in the valley. Here's a letter +from your father, and the horse is waiting for you out in +the yard."</p> + +<p>"But, good heavens! is that you, Thor?" I shouted in +great joy. It was indeed my father's man, a splendid specimen +of a Norwegian peasant. "How in the world have you +come here already?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><img src="images/fig_015.jpg" width="450" height="267" alt="Picture +of Thor leaning over the bed" title="page 31 illustration" /></div> + +<p>"Ah! that I can soon tell you," answered Thor. "I came +with your favourite, the bay mare. I had to take your father +down to Næs, and then he says to me, 'Thor,' says he, 'it +isn't very far to town from here. Just take the bay mare +and run down and see how the Lieutenant is, and if he is +well and can come back with you, you must bring him back +along with you,' says he."</p> + +<p>When we left the town it was daylight. The roads were +in splendid condition. The bay mare stretched out her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a>[<a href="images/031.png">Page 32</a>]</span> +old smart legs, and we arrived at length in sight of the +dear old house. Thor jumped off the sledge to undo the +gate, and as we merrily drove up to the door we were met +by the boisterous welcome of old Rover, who, in his frantic +joy at hearing my voice, almost broke his chains in trying +to rush at me.</p> + +<p>Such a Christmas as I spent that year I cannot recollect +before or since.</p> + +<p class="above4"></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The End.</span></p> + +<p class="above4"></p> +<hr /> +<p class="above4"></p> + +<h3><a name="Transnote">Transcriber's Notes</a></h3> + +<p class="above2">Punctuation surrounding reported speech has been regularised, all other +punctuation and spelling has been left as in the original text.</p> + +<p>Some of the illustrations have been moved from their original +placings to paragraph breaks. Every effort has been made to place +them as close to the scenes depicted as possible.</p> + +<p>Page numbers at the right side link to black and white images of +the book's pages. The original book has blank pages +following the full-page illustrations. To reduce the size of the +image file, neither the blank pages nor the black and white copies +of the full-page colour illustrations have been included.</p> + +<p><a href="#cover">Return to top</a>.</p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Round the yule-log: Christmas in +Norway, by Peter Christen Asbjörnsen + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'ROUND THE YULE-LOG *** + +***** This file should be named 31993-h.htm or 31993-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/9/9/31993/ + +Produced by Bryan Ness, Anne Grieve and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: 'Round the yule-log: Christmas in Norway + +Author: Peter Christen Asbjörnsen + +Translator: H. L. Broekstad + +Release Date: April 15, 2010 [EBook #31993] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'ROUND THE YULE-LOG *** + + + + +Produced by Bryan Ness, Anne Grieve and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + +-------------------------------------------------------------+ + | | + | Transcriber's note: | + | | + | Throughout this text, oe has been substituted for both the | + | oe ligature and the letter o with an umlaut. The ae ligature| + | has been replaced by ae. | + | | + | This book contains illustrations, several of which are | + | printed in mid-paragraph, either on a separate page or | + | alongside the text itself. To avoid disrupting the flow of | + | the text, the markers for these illustrations have been | + | moved to paragraph breaks. The original illustrations have | + | no captions, but descriptions have been added to them for | + | the enhancement of this text version. | + | | + | Punctuation surrounding reported speech has been | + | regularised, all other punctuation and spelling has been | + | left as in the original text. | + | | + +-------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + +[Frontispiece: Picture of a troll pulling girl by the arm] + + +[Illustration: Picture of a laughing troll] + + +'Round the Yule-Log + +Christmas in Norway + + +BY + +P. CHR. ASBJOERNSEN + + +TRANSLATED BY + +H. L. BROEKSTAD. + + +BOSTON + +DANA ESTES AND CO. + +PUBLISHERS + + +_Copyright, 1895,_ + +BY ESTES AND LAURIAT + +_All rights reserved_ + + +Colonial Press + +Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. + +Boston, Mass., U. S. A. + + + + +'ROUND THE YULE-LOG. + + +The wind was whistling through the old lime and maple trees opposite my +windows, the snow was sweeping down the street, and the sky was black as +a December sky can possibly be here in Christiania. I was in just as +black a mood. It was Christmas Eve,--the first I was to spend away from +the cosey fireside of my home. I had lately received my officer's +commission, and had hoped that I should have gladdened my aged parents +with my presence during the holidays, and had also hoped that I should +be able to show myself in all my glory and splendour to the ladies of +our parish. But a fever had brought me to the hospital, which I had left +only a week before, and now I found myself in the much-extolled state of +convalescence. I had written home for a horse and sledge and my father's +fur coat, but my letter could scarcely reach our valley before the day +after Christmas, and the horse could not be in town before New Year's +Eve. + +My comrades had all left town, and I knew no family with whom I could +make myself at home during the holidays. The two old maids I lodged with +were certainly very kind and friendly people, and they had taken great +care of me in the commencement of my illness, but the peculiar ways and +habits of these ladies were too much of the old school to prove +attractive to the fancies of youth. Their thoughts dwelt mostly on the +past; and when they, as often might occur, related to me some stories of +the town, its people and its customs, these stories reminded me, not +only by their contents, but also by the simple, unaffected way in which +they were rendered, of a past age. + +[Illustration: Picture of two old maids] + +The antiquated appearance of these ladies was also in the strictest +harmony with the house in which they lived. It was one of those old +houses in Custom House Street, with deep windows, long dark passages and +staircases, gloomy rooms and garrets, where one could not help thinking +of ghosts and brownies; in short, just such a house, and perhaps it was +the very one, which Mauritz Hansen has described in his story, "The Old +Dame with the Hood." Their circle of acquaintances was very limited; +besides a married sister and her children, no other visitors came there +but a couple of tiresome old ladies. The only relief to this kind of +life was a pretty niece and some merry little cousins of hers, who +always made me tell them fairy tales and stories. + +I tried to divert myself in my loneliness and melancholy mood by looking +out at all the people who passed up and down the street in the snow and +wind, with blue noses and half-shut eyes. It amused me to see the bustle +and the life in the apothecary's shop across the street. The door was +scarcely shut for a moment. Servants and peasants streamed in and out, +and commenced to study the labels and directions when they came out in +the street. Some appeared to be able to make them out, but sometimes a +lengthy study and a dubious shake of the head showed that the solution +was too difficult. It was growing dusk. I could not distinguish the +countenances any longer, but gazed across at the old building. The +apothecary's house, "The Swan," as it is still called, stood there, +with its dark, reddish-brown walls, its pointed gables and towers, with +weather-cocks and latticed windows, as a monument of the architecture of +the time of King Christian the Fourth. The Swan looked then, as now, a +most respectable and sedate bird, with its gold ring round its neck, its +spur-boots, and its wings stretched out as if to fly. I was about to +plunge myself into reflection on imprisoned birds when I was disturbed +by noise and laughter proceeding from some children in the adjoining +room, and by a gentle, old-maidish knock at my door. + +[Illustration: Picture of an old maid knocking at the door] + +On my requesting the visitor to come in, the elder of my landladies, +Miss Mette, entered the room with a courtesy in the good old style; she +inquired after my health, and invited me, without further ceremony, to +come and make myself at home with them for the evening. "It isn't good +for you, dear Lieutenant, to sit thus alone here in the dark," she +added. "Will you not come in to us now at once? Old Mother Skau and my +brother's little girls have come; they will perhaps amuse you a little. +You are so fond of the dear children." + +[Illustration: Picture of an old woman wearing a cap] + +I accepted the friendly invitation. As I entered the room, the fire from +the large square stove, where the logs were burning lustily, threw a +red, flickering light through the wide-open door over the room, which +was very deep, and furnished in the old style, with high-back, Russia +leather chairs, and one of those settees which were intended for +farthingales and straight up-and-down positions. The walls were adorned +with oil paintings, portraits of stiff ladies with powdered coiffures, +of bewigged Oldenborgians, and other redoubtable persons in mail and +armour or red coats. + +[Illustration: Picture of the narrator looking at the paintings] + +"You must really excuse us, Lieutenant, for not having lighted the +candles yet," said Miss Cicely, the younger sister, who was generally +called "Cilly," and who came towards me and dropped a courtesy, exactly +like her sister's; "but the children do so like to tumble about here +before the fire in the dusk of the evening, and Madam Skau does also +enjoy a quiet little chat in the chimney corner." + +"Oh, chat me here and chat me there! there is nothing you like yourself +better than a little bit of gossip in the dusk of the evening, Cilly, +and then we are to get the blame of it," answered the old asthmatic lady +whom they called Mother Skau. + +"Eh! good evening, sir," she said to me, as she drew herself up to make +the best of her own inflated, bulky appearance. "Come and sit down here +and tell me how it fares with you; but, by my troth, you are nothing but +skin and bones!" + +I had to tell her all about my illness, and in return I had to endure a +very long and circumstantial account of her rheumatism and her +asthmatical ailments, which, fortunately, was interrupted by the noisy +arrival of the children from the kitchen, where they had paid a visit to +old Stine, a fixture in the house. + +"Oh, auntie, do you know what Stine says?" cried a little brown-eyed +beauty. "She says I shall go with her into the hay-loft to-night and +give the brownie his Christmas porridge. But I won't go; I am afraid of +the brownies!" + +"Never mind, my dear, Stine says it only to get rid of you; she dare not +go into the hay-loft herself--the foolish old thing--in the dark, for +she knows well enough she was frightened once by the brownies herself," +said Miss Mette. "But are you not going to say good evening to the +Lieutenant, children?" + +"Oh, is that you, Lieutenant? I did not know you. How pale you are! It +is such a long time since I saw you!" shouted the children all at once, +as they flocked round me. + +"Now you must tell us something awfully jolly! It is such a long time +since you told us anything. Oh, tell us about Buttercup, dear Mr. +Lieutenant, do tell us about Buttercup and Goldentooth!" + +I had to tell them about Buttercup and the dog Goldentooth, but they +would not let me off until I gave them a couple of stories into the +bargain about the brownies at Vager and at Bure, who stole hay from each +other, and who met at last with a load of hay on their backs, and how +they fought till they vanished in a cloud of hay-dust. I had also to +tell them the story of the brownie at Hesselberg, who teased the +house-dog till the farmer came out and threw him over the barn bridge. +The children clapped their hands in great joy and laughed heartily. + +[Illustration: Picture of two brownies fighting] + +"It served him right, the naughty brownie!" they shouted, and asked for +another story. + +"Well," said I, "I will tell you the story of Peter Gynt and the trolls. + +"In the olden days there lived in Kvam a hunter whose name was Peter +Gynt, and who was always roaming about in the mountains after bears and +elks, for in those days there were more forests on the mountains than +there are now, and consequently plenty of wild beasts. + +"One day, shortly before Christmas, Peter set out on an expedition. He +had heard of a farm on Doorefell which was invaded by such a number of +trolls every Christmas Eve that the people on the farm had to move out, +and get shelter at some of their neighbours'. He was anxious to go +there, for he had a great fancy to come across the trolls, and see if he +could not overcome them. He dressed himself in some old ragged clothes, +and took a tame white bear which he had with him, as well as an awl, +some pitch and twine. When he came to the farm he went in and asked for +lodgings. + +[Illustration: Picture of Peter Gynt and his tame white bear] + +"'God help us!' said the farmer; 'we can't give you any lodgings. We +have to clear out of the house ourselves soon and look for lodgings, for +every Christmas Eve we have the trolls here.' + +"But Peter thought he should be able to clear the trolls out,--he had +done such a thing before; and then he got leave to stay, and a pig's +skin into the bargain. The bear lay down behind the fireplace, and +Peter took out his awl and pitch and twine, and began making a big, big +shoe, which it took the whole pig's skin to make. He put a strong rope +in for lacings, that he might pull the shoe tightly together, and, +finally, he armed himself with a couple of handspikes. + +"Shortly he heard the trolls coming. They had a fiddler with them, and +some began dancing, while others fell to eating the Christmas fare on +the table,--some fried bacon, and some fried frogs and toads, and other +nasty things which they had brought with them. During this some of the +trolls found the shoe Peter had made. They thought it must belong to a +very big foot. They all wanted to try it on at once, so they put a foot +each into it; but Peter made haste and tightened the rope, took one of +the handspikes and fastened the rope around it, and got them at last +securely tied up in the shoe. + +"Just then the bear put his nose out from behind the fireplace, where he +was lying, and smelt they were frying something. + +"'Will you have a sausage, pussy?' said one of the trolls, and threw a +hot frog right into the bear's jaws. + +"'Scratch them, pussy!' said Peter. + +"The bear got so angry that he rushed at the trolls and scratched them +all over, while Peter took the other handspike and hammered away at them +as if he wanted to beat their brains out. The trolls had to clear out at +last, but Peter stayed and enjoyed himself with all the Christmas fare +the whole week. After that the trolls were not heard of there for many +years. + +"Some years afterwards, about Christmas time, Peter was out in the +forest cutting wood for the holidays, when a troll came up to him and +shouted,-- + +[Illustration: Picture of a troll shouting at Peter Gynt] + +"'Have you got that big pussy of yours, yet?' + +"'Oh, yes! she is at home behind the fireplace,' said he; 'and she has +got seven kittens, all bigger and larger than herself.' + +"'We'll never come to you any more, then,' said the troll, and they +never did." + +The children were all delighted with this story. + +"Tell us another, dear Lieutenant," they all shouted in chorus. + +"No, no, children! you bother the Lieutenant too much," said Miss +Cicely. "Aunt Mette will tell you a story now." + +"Yes, do, auntie, do!" was the general cry. + +"I don't know exactly what I shall tell you," said Aunt Mette, "but +since we have commenced telling about the brownies, I think I will tell +you something about them, too. You remember, of course, old Kari +Gausdal, who came here and baked bread, and who always had so many tales +to tell you." + +"Oh, yes, yes!" shouted the children. + +"Well, old Kari told me that she was in service at the orphan asylum +some years ago, and at that time it was still more dreary and lonely in +that part of the town than it is now. That asylum is a dark and dismal +place, I can tell you. Well, when Kari came there she was cook, and a +very smart and clever girl she was. She had, one day, to get up very +early in the morning to brew, when the other servants said to her,-- + +"'You had better mind you don't get up too early, and you mustn't put +any fire under the copper before two o'clock.' + +"'Why?' she asked. + +"'Don't you know there is a brownie here? And you ought to know that +those people don't like to be disturbed so early,' they said; 'and +before two o'clock you mustn't light the fire by any means.' + +"'Is that all?' said Kari. She was anything but chicken-hearted. 'I have +nothing to do with that brownie of yours, but if he comes in my way, +why, by my faith, I will send him head over heels through the door.' + +"The others warned her, but she did not care a bit, and next morning, +just as the clock struck one, she got up and lighted the fire under the +copper in the brewhouse; but the fire went out in a moment. Somebody +appeared to be throwing the logs about on the hearth, but she could not +see who it was. She gathered the logs together, one at a time, but it +was of no use, and the chimney would not draw, either. She got tired of +this at last, took a burning log and ran around the room with it, +swinging it high and low while she shouted, 'Be gone, be gone whence you +came! If you think you can frighten me you are mistaken.' 'Curse you!' +somebody hissed in one of the darkest corners. 'I have had seven souls +in this house; I thought I should have got eight in all!' 'But from that +time nobody saw or heard the brownie in the asylum,' said Kari Gausdal." + +[Illustration: Picture of Kari swinging the burning log] + +"I am getting so frightened!" said one of the children. "No, you must +tell us some more stories, Lieutenant; I never feel afraid when you tell +us anything, because you tell us such jolly tales." Another proposed +that I should tell them about the brownie who danced the Halling dance +with the lassie. That was a tale I didn't care much about, as there was +some singing in it. But they would on no account let me off, and I was +going to clear my throat and prepare my exceedingly inharmonious voice +to sing the Halling dance, which belongs to the story, when the pretty +niece, whom I have already referred to, entered the room, to the great +joy of the children and to my rescue. + +"Well, my dear children, I will tell you the story, if you can get +cousin Lizzie to sing the Halling for you," said I, as she sat down, +"and then you'll dance to it yourselves, won't you?" + +Cousin Lizzie was besieged by the children, and had to promise to do the +singing, so I commenced my story. + +"There was, once upon a time,--I almost think it was in Hallingdal,--a +lassie who was sent up into the hay-loft with the cream porridge for the +brownie,--I cannot recollect if it was on a Thursday or on a Christmas +Eve, but I think it was a Christmas Eve. Well, she thought it was a +great pity to give the brownie such a dainty dish, so she ate the +porridge herself, and the melted butter in the bargain, and went up into +the hay-loft with the plain oatmeal porridge and sour milk, in a pig's +trough instead. 'There, that's good enough for you, Master Brownie,' she +said. But no sooner had she spoken the words than the brownie stood +right before her, seized her round the waist, and danced about with her, +which he kept up till she lay gasping for breath, and when the people +came up into the hay-loft in the morning, she was more dead than alive. +But as long as they danced, the brownie sang," (and here Cousin Lizzie +undertook his part, and sang to the tune of the Halling)-- + +[Illustration: Picture of the girl lying in the hay-loft] + + "And you have eaten the porridge for the brownie, + And you shall dance with the little brownie! + + "And have you eaten the porridge for the brownie? + Then you shall dance with the little brownie!" + +I assisted in keeping time by stamping on the floor with my feet, while +the children romped about the room in uproarious joy. + +"I think you are turning the house upside down, children!" said old +Mother Skau; "if you'll be quiet, I'll give you a story." + +The children were soon quiet, and Mother Skau commenced as follows: + +[Illustration: Picture of a Brownie hurling dishes on the floor] + +"You hear a great deal about brownies and fairies and such like beings, +but I don't believe there is much in it. I have neither seen one nor the +other. Of course I have not been so very much about in my lifetime, but +I believe it is all nonsense. But old Stine out in the kitchen there, +she says she has seen the brownie. About the time when I was confirmed +she was in service with my parents. She came to us from a captain's, who +had given up the sea. It was a very quiet place. The captain only took a +walk as far as the quay every day. They always went to bed early. People +said there was a brownie in the house. Well, it so happened that Stine +and the cook were sitting in their room one evening, mending and darning +their things; it was near bedtime, for the watchman had already sung out +'Ten o'clock!' but somehow the darning and the sewing went on very +slowly indeed; every moment 'Jack Nap' came and played his tricks upon +them. At one moment Stine was nodding and nodding, and then came the +cook's turn,--they could not keep their eyes open; they had been up +early that morning to wash clothes. But just as they were sitting thus, +they heard a terrible crash down stairs in the kitchen, and Stine +shouted, 'Lor' bless and preserve us! it must be the brownie.' She was +so frightened she dared scarcely move a foot, but at last the cook +plucked up courage and went down into the kitchen, closely followed by +Stine. When they opened the kitchen door they found all the crockery on +the floor, but none of it broken, while the brownie was standing on the +big kitchen table with his red cap on, and hurling one dish after the +other on to the floor, and laughing in great glee. The cook had heard +that the brownies could sometimes be tricked into moving into another +house when anybody would tell them of a very quiet place, and as she +long had been wishing for an opportunity to play a trick upon this +brownie, she took courage and spoke to him,--her voice was a little +shaky at the time,--that he ought to remove to the tinman's over the +way, where it was so very quiet and pleasant, because they always went +to bed at nine o'clock every evening; which was true enough, as the cook +told Stine later, but then the master and all his apprentices and +journeymen were up every morning at three o'clock and hammered away and +made a terrible noise all day. Since that day they have not seen the +brownie any more at the captain's. He seemed to feel quite at home at +the tinman's, although they were hammering and tapping away there all +day; but people said that the gude-wife put a dish of porridge up in the +garret for him every Thursday evening, and it's no wonder that they got +on well and became rich when they had a brownie in the house. Stine +believed he brought things to them. Whether it was the brownie or not +who really helped them, I cannot say," said Mother Skau, in conclusion, +and got a fit of coughing and choking after the exertion of telling +this, for her, unusually long story. + +[Illustration: Picture of the gude-wife putting porridge in the garret] + +When she had taken a pinch of snuff she felt better, and became quite +cheerful again, and began:-- + +"My mother, who, by the way, was a truthful woman, told a story which +happened here in the town one Christmas Eve. I know it is true, for an +untrue word never passed her lips." + +"Let us hear it, Madame Skau," said I. + +"Yes, tell, tell, Mother Skau!" cried the children. + +She coughed a little, took another pinch of snuff, and proceeded:-- + +"When my mother still was in her teens, she used sometimes to visit a +widow whom she knew, and whose name was,--dear me, what was her +name?--Madame,--yes, Madame Evensen, of course. She was a woman who had +seen the best part of her life, but whether she lived up in Mill Street +or down in the corner by the Little Church Hill, I cannot say for +certain. Well, one Christmas Eve, just like to-night, she thought she +would go to the morning service on the Christmas Day, for she was a +great church-goer, and so she left out some coffee with the girl before +she went to bed, that she might get a cup next morning,--she was sure a +cup of warm coffee would do her a great deal of good at that early hour. +When she woke, the moon was shining into the room; but when she got up +to look at the clock she found it had stopped and that the fingers +pointed to half-past eleven. She had no idea what time it could be, so +she went to the window and looked across to the church. The light was +streaming out through all the windows. She must have overslept herself! +She called the girl and told her to get the coffee ready, while she +dressed herself. So she took her hymn-book and started for church. The +street was very quiet; she did not meet a single person on her way to +church. When she went inside, she sat down in her customary seat in one +of the pews, but when she looked around her she thought that the people +were so pale and so strange,--exactly as if they were all dead. She did +not know any of them, but there were several of them she seemed to +recollect having seen before; but when and where she had seen them she +could not call to mind. When the minister came into the pulpit, she saw +that he was not one of the ministers in the town, but a tall, pale man, +whose face, however, she thought she could recollect. He preached very +nicely indeed, and there was not the usual noisy coughing and hawking +which you always hear at the morning services on a Christmas Day; it was +so quiet, you could have heard a needle drop on the floor,--in fact, it +was so quiet she began to feel quite uneasy and uncomfortable. When the +singing commenced again, a female who sat next to her leant towards her +and whispered in her ear, 'Throw the cloak loosely around you and go, +because if you wait here till the service is over they will make short +work of you. It is the dead who are keeping service.'" + +[Illustration: Picture of a Church with light streaming from the windows] + +"Oh, Mother Skau, I feel so frightened, I feel so frightened!" whimpered +one of the children, and climbed up on a chair. + +"Hush, hush, child!" said Mother Skau. "She got away from them safe +enough; only listen! When the widow heard the voice of the person next +to her, she turned round to look at her,--but what a start she got! She +recognized her; it was her neighbour who died many years ago; and when +she looked around the church, she remembered well that she had seen both +the minister and several of the congregation before, and that they had +died long ago. This sent quite a cold shiver through her, she became +that frightened. She threw the cloak loosely round her, as the female +next to her had said, and went out of the pew; but she thought they all +turned round and stretched out their hands after her. Her legs shook +under her, till she thought she would sink down on the church floor. +When she came out on the steps, she felt that they had got hold of her +cloak; she let it go and left it in their clutches, while she hurried +home as quickly as she could. When she came to the door the clock struck +one, and by the time she got inside she was nearly half dead,--she was +that frightened. In the morning when the people went to church, they +found the cloak lying on the steps, but it was torn into a thousand +pieces. My mother had often seen the cloak before, and I think she saw +one of the pieces, also; but that doesn't matter,--it was a short, pink, +woollen cloak, with fur lining and borders, such as was still in use in +my childhood. They are very rarely seen nowadays, but there are some old +ladies in the town and down at the 'Home' whom I see with such cloaks in +church at Christmas time." + +[Illustration: Picture of a girl running from the church] + +The children, who had expressed considerable fear and uneasiness during +the latter part of the story, declared they would not hear any more such +terrible stories. They had crept up into the sofa and on the chairs, but +still they thought they felt somebody plucking at them from underneath +the table. Suddenly the lights were brought in, and we discovered then, +to our great amusement, that the children had put their legs on to the +table. The lights, the Christmas cake, the jellies, the tarts and the +wine soon chased away the horrible ghost story and all fear from their +minds, revived everybody's spirits, and brought the conversation on to +their neighbours and the topics of the day. Finally, our thoughts took a +flight towards something more substantial, on the appearance of the +Christmas porridge and the roast ribs of pork. We broke up early, and +parted with the best wishes for a Merry Christmas. I passed, however, a +very uneasy night. I do not know whether it was the stories, the +substantial supper, my weak condition, or all these combined, which was +the cause of it; I tossed myself hither and thither in my bed, and got +mixed up with brownies, fairies and ghosts the whole night. Finally, I +sailed through the air towards the church, while some merry sledge-bells +were ringing in my ears. The church was lighted up, and when I came +inside I saw it was our own church up in the valley. There were nobody +there but peasants in their red caps, soldiers in full uniform, country +lasses with their white head-dresses and red cheeks. The minister was in +the pulpit; it was my grandfather, who died when I was a little boy. But +just as he was in the middle of the sermon, he made a somersault--he was +known as one of the smartest men in the parish--right into the middle of +the church; the surplice flew one way and the collar another. "There +lies the parson, and here am I," he said, with one of his well-known +airs, "and now let us have a spring dance!" In an instant the whole of +the congregation was in the midst of a wild dance. A big tall peasant +came towards me and took me by the shoulder and said, "You'll have to +join us, my lad!" + +[Illustration: Picture of a young woman holding a bible] + +At this moment I awoke, and felt some one pulling at my shoulder. I +could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw the same peasant whom I had +seen in my dream leaning over me. There he was, with the red cap down +over his ears, a big fur coat over his arm, and a pair of big eyes +looking fixedly at me. + +"You must be dreaming," he said, "the perspiration is standing in big +drops on your forehead, and you were sleeping as heavily as a bear in +his lair! God's peace and a merry Christmas to you, I say! and +greetings to you from your father and all yours up in the valley. Here's +a letter from your father, and the horse is waiting for you out in the +yard." + +"But, good heavens! is that you, Thor?" I shouted in great joy. It was +indeed my father's man, a splendid specimen of a Norwegian peasant. "How +in the world have you come here already?" + +[Illustration: Picture of Thor leaning over the bed] + +"Ah! that I can soon tell you," answered Thor. "I came with your +favourite, the bay mare. I had to take your father down to Naes, and then +he says to me, 'Thor,' says he, 'it isn't very far to town from here. +Just take the bay mare and run down and see how the Lieutenant is, and +if he is well and can come back with you, you must bring him back along +with you,' says he." + +When we left the town it was daylight. The roads were in splendid +condition. The bay mare stretched out her old smart legs, and we +arrived at length in sight of the dear old house. Thor jumped off the +sledge to undo the gate, and as we merrily drove up to the door we were +met by the boisterous welcome of old Rover, who, in his frantic joy at +hearing my voice, almost broke his chains in trying to rush at me. + +Such a Christmas as I spent that year I cannot recollect before or +since. + + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Round the yule-log: Christmas in +Norway, by Peter Christen Asbjörnsen + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'ROUND THE YULE-LOG *** + +***** This file should be named 31993.txt or 31993.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/9/9/31993/ + +Produced by Bryan Ness, Anne Grieve and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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