Garman And Worse A Norwegian Novel by Alexander Lange Kielland (best ereader for pdf and epub txt) 📕

Lighthouse,  The Weather Is So Lovely;" And Away She Ran.

"All Right," Answered Per,  Springing Like A Cat Up The Slope.

As He Ran He Threw Away The Seaweed So As To Have The Lobster Ready,  And

When He Got To The Kitchen Door He Flung The Monster Down On The Bench,

Laughing. They Jested And Laughed As If They Knew Not That They Were No

Longer Children,  And She Made Per Promise To Give Up Chewing Tobacco.

Away Along The Curving Shore,  With The Salt Breath Of Ocean Fresh Upon

Them,  Went These Young Hearts,  Rejoicing In Their Existence,  While The

Sea Danced In Sparkling Wavelets At Their Feet.

The _Attache_ Had Just Finished A Letter To His Brother; It Was One Of

These Wearisome Business Letters,  Enclosing Some Papers He Had Had To

Sign. He Never Could Make Out Where The Proper Place Was For Him To Put

His Name On These Tiresome,  Long-Winded Documents. But,  Wonderful To

Relate,  His Brother Always Told Him That It Was Perfectly Correct,  And

Christian Frederick Was Most Particular In Such Matters. The Old

Gentleman Had Just Sent Off The Letter,  And Was Beginning To Breathe

More Easily,  When He Went To The Window And Looked Out. He Discovered

Two Forms Going In a Northerly Direction Over The Sand-Hills.

Half Abstractedly,  He Went To The Other Window And Directed The Large

Telestope Upon Them.

"Humph!" Said He,  "I Declare,  They'Re There Again."

Suddenly He Took His Eye From The Telescope.

"Hulloa! The Girl Must Be Mad."

He Put His Eye Down Again To The Telescope,  And Threw Away His

Cigarette. There Was No Doubt About It--There Was His Own Madeleine

Hanging Round Per'S Neck. He Rubbed The Glass Excitedly With His

Pocket-Handkerchief. They Were Now Going Respectably Enough Side By

Side; Now They Were Among The Grassy Knolls,  And Behind One Of Them They

Disappeared From His Sight. He Thoughtfully Directed The Telescope To

The Other Side Of The Hillock And Waited. "What Now?" Muttered He,

Giving The Glass Another Rub. They Had Not Yet Come From Behind The

Hillock. For A Few Minutes The Father Was Quite Nervous. At Last He Saw

One Form Raise Itself,  And Immediately After Another.

The Telescope Was Perfect,  And The Old Gentleman Took In The Situation

Just As Well As If He Had Himself Been Sitting By Their Side.

"Ah! It'S Well It'S No Worse," He Murmured; "But It'S Bad Enough As It

Is. I Shall Have To Send Her Off To The Town."

When They Were At Dinner,  He Said,  "You Know,  Madeleine,  We Have Long

Been Talking About Your Staying A Little While At Sandsgaard."

"Oh No,  Father," Broke In Madeleine,  Looking Beseechingly At Him.

"Yes,  Child; It'S Quite Time Now In My Opinion." He Spoke In an

Unusually Determined Tone.

Madeleine Could See That He Knew Everything,  And All At Once The Events

Of The Morning Stood In Their True Light Before Her. As She Sat There,

In Their Well-Appointed Room,  Opposite Her Father,  Who Looked So Refined

And Stately,  Per And The Shore,  And Everything That Belonged To It,  Bore

Quite A Different Aspect,  And Instead Of The Joyful Confession She Had

Pictured To Herself As She Went Homewards,  She Looked Down In confusion

And Blushed To The Very Roots Of Her Hair.

The Visit Was Thus Arranged,  And Madeleine Was Delighted That Her Father

Had Not Observed Her Confusion; And He Was Glad Enough To Escape Any

Further Explanation On The Subject,  For It Was Just In Such Matters That

The Old Gentleman Showed His Weakest Point. The Next Day He Rode Into

The Town.

_"Avoir,  Avant,  Avu_--That'S How It Goes! That'S Right,  My Boy; _Avoir,

Avant_."

The Whole Class Could See Clearly That The Master Was Lost In Thought.

He Was Pacing Up And Down,  With Long Steps And Half-Closed Eyes,

Gesticulating From Time To Time,  As He Kept Repeating The Ill-Used

Auxiliary. On The Upper Benches The Boys Began To Titter,  And Those On

The Lower Ones,  Who Had Not Such A Fine Ear For The French Verbs,  Soon

Caught The Infection; While The Unhappy Wretch Who Was Undergoing

Examination,  Sat Trembling Lest The Master Should Notice His Wonderful

Method Of Conjugating The Verb. This Unfortunate Being Was Gabriel

Garman,  The Consul'S Younger Son. He Was A Tall,  Slender Boy Of About

Fifteen Or Sixteen,  With A Refined Face,  Prominent Nose,  And Upright

Bearing.

Gabriel Was Sitting In The Lower Half Of The Class,  Which Was,  In The

Opinion Of The Master,  A Great Disgrace For A Boy Of His Ability. He

Was,  However,  A Curious,  Wayward Boy. In Some Things,  Such As Arithmetic

And Mathematics Generally,  He Distinguished Himself; But In Greek And

Latin,  Which Were Considered The Most Important Part Of His Education,

He Showed But Little Proficiency,  Although He Was Destined For A

University Career.

At Last The General Mirth Of The Class Burst Out In Sundry Half-Stifled

Noises,  Which Roused The Master From His Reverie,  And He Again Resumed

The Book,  To Continue The Examination. As Ill Luck Would Have It,  He

Once More Repeated,  "_Avoir,  Avant_," And Then Half Abstractedly,

"_Avu_." "Ah,  You Young Idiot!" Cried He,  In a Discordant Voice,  "Can'T

You Manage _Avoir_ Yet? Whatever Is To Become Of You?"

"Merchant," Answered Gabriel,  Bluntly.

"What Do You Say? You Dare To Answer Your Master? Are You Going To Be

Impertinent? I'Ll Teach You! Where'S The Persuader?" And The Master

Strode Up To His Seat,  And,  Diving Down Into His Desk,  Began Routing

About In It.

At This Moment The Passage Door Opened,  And An Extraordinary And Most

Unscholarly Looking Head Intruded Itself Into The Room. The Head Had A

Red Nose,  And Wore A Long American Goat'S-Beard And A Blue Seaman'S Cap.

"Are You There?" Said The Head,  Addressing Master Gabriel In a

Half-Drunken Voice. "Is That Where You Are,  Poor Boy? Bah! What An

Atmosphere! I Only Just Came In To Tell You To Come Down To The

Ship-Yard When You Get Out Of School; We Are Just Beginning The

Planking."

He Did Not Get Any Further,  For At The Sight Of The Long-Legged Master,

Who Stalked Down From The Desk,  Quite Scandalized At This Disturbance Of

Order,  The Head Suddenly Stopped In Its Harangue,  And With A Hearty,

"Well,  I'M Blest! What A Ghost!" Disappeared,  Closing The Door After It.

It Did Not Take Very Much To Provoke The Laughter Of The Boys,  And When

At The Same Moment The Bell Rang To Announce That The School-Hour Was

Over,  The Class Broke Up In confusion,  And The Master Hastened,  Fuming

With Rage,  To Complain To The Rector.

Gabriel Hurried Off As Fast As He Could,  In Hopes Of Catching Up His

Friend Who Had Caused The Disturbance,  But He Had Already Disappeared;

He Had Probably Gone Down To The Town To Continue His Libations. This

Friend Was A Foreman Shipwright,  Who,  Since His Return From America,  Had

Borne The Name Of Tom Robson. His Real Name When He Left Home Was Thomas

Robertsen,  But It Had Got Changed Somehow In america,  And He Kept To It

As It Was.

Tom Robson Was The Cleverest Foreman On The Whole West Coast,  But His

Drinking Propensities Tried To The Utmost Both The Patience And The

Firmness Of His Employers. He Had Already Built Several Vessels For

Garman And Worse,  But He Was Determined That The One He Was Now

Superintending At Sandsgaard Should Be His Masterpiece.

This Vessel Was Of About Nine Hundred Tons Burden,  And Was The Largest

Craft That Had Been Built At That Port Up To The Present Time,  And

Consul Garman Had Given Orders That Nothing Should Be Spared To Make It

A Model Of Perfection.

Tom Robson Was Thus Only Able To Get Drunk By Fits And Starts,  Which He

Did When They Came To Any Important Epoch In The Building. On That Day,

For Instance,  The Time Had Just Arrived For Beginning To Lay The

Planking Upon The Timbers.

As Gabriel Neither Found His Friend Nor Saw Anything Of The Carriage

From Sandsgaard,  Which Generally Met Him On His Way From School,  He Set

Off To Walk Homewards,  Down The Long Avenue Which Led To The Family

Property. It Was A Good Half-Hour'S Walk,  And While He Sauntered Along,

Swinging His Heavy Burden Of The Books He So Cordially Hated,  He Was

Lost In Gloomy Thought. Every Day,  On His Way From School,  He Met The

Younger Clerks Going To Their Dinner In The Town. They Looked Tired And

Weary,  It Is True; Still,  He Envied Them Their Permission To Sit Working

The Whole Day In The Office--A Paradise With Which He,  Although His

Father'S Son,  Had No Connection Whatever. He Was Obliged To Confine His

Energy To The Building-Yard,  Where There Were Plenty Of Hiding-Places,

And Where The Consul Was Seldom Seen Of An Afternoon. The Ship On