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

Answered Richard.

"You Always Are So Sarcastic," Muttered The Consul. "I Wish We Could Get

At These Bottles."

"You'Ll Have To Creep In after Them,  Christian Frederick. I Am Too

Stout."

"All Right," Answered His Brother,  Taking Off His Watch And Heavy Bunch

Of Seals. And The Old Gentleman Crept Into The Bin With The Utmost Care.

"Now I'Ve Got One," He Cried.

"Take Two While You Are About It."

"Yes; But You Will Have To Take Hold Of My Legs And Pull Me Out."

"_Avec Plaisir_!" Answered Richard. "But Won'T You Have A Drop Of

Burgundy Before You Come Out?"

There Must Have Been Some Joke Hidden In The Question,  For The Consul

Began To Laugh; But Before Long He Stammered Out,  "I Am Choking,  Dick;

Will You Pull Me Out,  You Fiend?"

The Joke About The Burgundy Was As Follows. Once When The Young Consul

Had Crept In among The Bottles,  To Look For Something Very Particular,

He Managed To Knock His Head Against One Which Lay In The Rack Above So

Hard That It Broke,  And The Whole Bottle Of Burgundy Ran Down His Neck.

Every Time Any Allusion Was Made To This Mishap,  A Meaning Smile Passed

Between The Brothers,  And Richard Was Even So Careless As Sometimes To

Allude To It When Others Were Present. For Instance,  If They Were

Sitting At Dinner,  And The Conversation Turned Upon Red Wines,  He Would

Say,  "Well,  My Brother Has His Own Peculiar Way Of Drinking Burgundy;"

And Then Would Follow A Series Of Mysterious Allusions And Laughter

Between The Two,  Which Usually Ended In a Fit Of Coughing.

The Young People Had Several Times Tried To Get At This Joke About The

Burgundy,  But Always In Vain. Miss Cordsen,  Who Had Been Obliged That

Day To Get A Clean Shirt For The Consul,  Was The Only One In The Secret;

But Miss Cordsen Could Hold Her Tongue About More Serious Matters Than

That.

At Last The Consul Came Out Again,  Laughing And Sputtering,  His

Waistcoat Covered With Dust,  And His Hair Full Of Cobwebs. When They Had

Had A Good Laugh Over Their Joke--It Was Well The Walls Were So

Thick--Richard,  On Whom The Duty Always Devolved,  Uncorked The First

Bottle With The Greatest Care And Skill.

"H'M! H'M!" Said The Consul,  "That Is A Curious Bouquet."

"I Declare,  The Wine Has Gone Off," Said Richard,  Spluttering.

"Bah! Right You Are,  Dick," Said Christian Frederick,  Spluttering In His

Turn.

Uncle Richard Opened The Second Bottle,  Put His Nose To It,  And Said

Approvingly,  "Madeira!" And In a Moment The Golden Wine Was Sparkling In

The Old-Fashioned Dutch Glasses.

"Ah! That'S Quite Another Thing," Said The Young Consul,  Taking His

Usual Place Astride Of The Old Rocking-Horse.

The Rocking-Horse Was A Relic Of Their Childhood. "They Used To Make

Everything More Solid In Those Days," Said Christian Frederick; And When

Some Years Previously The Horse Had Been Found Amongst A Lot Of Rubbish,

The Consul Had Had It Brought Down To The Cellar. For Many A Long Year

He Had Sat On This Horse,  Drinking The Old Wine Out Of The Same Old

Glasses With His Brother,  Who Sat In The Rickety Armchair,  Which Cracked

Under His Weight,  Laughing And Telling Anecdotes Of Their Boyhood. He

Never Got Such Wine Anywhere Else,  And No Room Ever Appeared So

Brilliant In His Eyes As The Low-Vaulted Cellar With Its Two Smoky

Lights.

"I Declare,  It'S A Shame," Said The Young Consul,  "That You Have Never

Had Your Half Of That Cask Of Port. However,  I Will Send You Some Wine

Out To Bratvold One Of These Days,  So That You May Have Some,  Till We

Can Get It Tapped."

"But You Are Always Sending Me Wine,  Christian Frederick. I Am Sure I

Have Had My Half,  And More Too,  Long Ago."

"Nonsense,  Dick! I Declare,  I Believe You Keep A Wine Account."

"No,  I Am Sure I Don'T."

"Well,  If You Don'T,  I Do; And I Dare Say You'Ve Remarked That In Your

Account For Last Year--"

"Yes; That'S Enough Of That. Here'S To Your Health,  Christian

Frederick," Broke In Uncle Richard,  Hastily. He Was Always Nervous When

His Brother Began About Business.

"That'S A Great Big Cask."

"Yes,  It Is A Very Big One."

And The Two Old Gentlemen Held Out Their Lights Towards It,  And Each Of

Them Thought,  "I Am Glad My Brother Does Not Know That The Cask Is

Nearly Empty;" For It Returned A Most Unpromising Sound When It Was

Struck,  And The Patch Of Moisture Beneath It Showed That It Had

Evidently Been Leaking For Many Years.

At The End Of The Bottle,  They Got Up And Clinked Their Glasses

Together. They Then Took Each His Bottle Of Burgundy For Dinner,  Hung

Their Coats On Their Arms,  And Went Up Into The Daylight. It Was

Strictly Forbidden For Any One To Meet Them When They Came Out Of The

Cellar,  And Miss Cordsen Had Trouble Enough To Keep The Way Clear. They

Presented A Most Extraordinary Spectacle,  Especially The Precise

Christian Frederick,  Coming Up Red And Beaming,  In Their Shirtsleeves,

Covered With Dust,  And Each Carrying His Bottle And His Light.

An Hour Later They Met At The Dinner-Table--Richard,  Trim And Smart As

Usual,  With His Conventional Diplomatic Smile; The Consul Precise,

Haughty,  And Correct To The Very Tips Of His Fingers.

Dinner Was Served In The Small Room On The North Side Of The House,  And

The Company Assembled In The Two So-Called Sunday-Rooms,  Which Looked

Over The Garden.

Mrs. Garman Always Dressed In black Silk,  But To-Day She Was More

Shining And Ponderous Than Usual. She Had Been Looking Forward To A Nice

Quiet Little Dinner With Pastor Martens And The New School Inspector;

And Now Here Came A Whole Posse Of Worldly Minded People. Mrs. Garman

Was Thus Not In The Best Of Tempers,  And Miss Cordsen Had To Display All

Her Tact. But Miss Cordsen Had Had Long Practice,  For Mrs. Garman Had

Always Been Difficult To Manage,  Especially Of Late Years Since

"Religion Had Come Into Fashion," As The Careless Uncle Richard

Declared.

Mrs Garman Did Not Really Manage Her Own House; Everything Went On

Without Change,  According To The Immutable Rules Which Had Come Down

"Oh No,  Not Exactly That," Replied He,  Quietly. "The Idea I Wished To

Convey Is That Nature Here Has Something--How Shall I Express

It?--Something Exacting About It,  By Which One Seems,  As It Were,

Impelled To Activity,  To Perform Some Deed Which Will Make A Mark In The

World."

She Looked At Him With Astonishment; But Her Uncle Said

Good-Humouredly--

"For My Part,  I Find Our Desolate And Weather-Beaten Coast Tends Rather

To Lead The Mind To Meditation And Thought Than To Excite It To

Activity."

"When I Come To Your Years," Answered Mr. Johnsen,  "And Have Done

Something In The World,  I Dare Say I Shall Look Upon Life As You Do."

"I Hope Not," Sighed Uncle Richard,  Half Smilingly And Half Sadly. "As

To Having Done Anything,  I--"

At That Moment The Door Opened And Young Mrs. Garman Entered The Room.

She Looked So Lovely That All Eyes Were Turned Upon Her. Her French Grey

Silk With Its Pink Trimmings Had A Cut Quite Foreign To Those Parts,  And

It Was Difficult To Look At Her Or Her Toilette Without Feeling That

Both Were Out Of The Common In That Society.

But The First Glance Told That The Beautifully Fitting Dress,  And The

Graceful And Bright-Eyed Woman Who Wore It,  Were Well Suited To Each

Other; And As She Stepped Lightly Across The Room And Gave A Sprightly

Nod To Her Uncle,  There Was A Natural Ease About Her Gait And Manner

Which Contrasted Favourably With The Self-Consciousness With Which Young

Ladies Exhibit Themselves And Their Smart Dresses When First Entering

Into Society.

"I Declare,  She Has Got Another New One!" Muttered Mrs. Aalbom.

_"Mais,  Mon Dieu,  Comme Elle Est Belle!"_ Whispered Uncle Richard,

Enchanted.

After Fanny Followed The Short But Active-Looking Mr. Delphin,  Secretary

To The Resident Magistrate,  Then Jacob Worse,  And Lastly Morten Garman.

Morten Was Tall And Stoutly Built. It Would Appear That He Had Inherited

Something Of His Mother'S "Cross," Which Did Not,  However,  Seem To

Oppress Him. He Had A Good-Looking Face,  Which Was,  However,  Rather

Weak; And His Eyes Were Too Prominent And Slightly Bloodshot.

George Delphin Had Been About Six Months In The Town,  As Secretary To

The Magistrate,  And Since Fanny Garman Was The Magistrate'S Daughter,

Delphin Soon Got An _Entree_ Into The Garmans' House,  And Was A Frequent

Guest At Sandsgaard. Morten Had Picked Him Up At His Father-In-Law'S

Office,  When The Carriage Was Sent To The Town To Find The Young People;

They Had Met Jacob Worse Accidentally,  And Fanny Had Called To Him When

They Were Already Seated In The Carriage.

Morten Had No Great Liking For Jacob Worse,  Although They Had Been Much

Thrown Together In Their Boyhood. Consul Garman,  On The Other Hand,  Was

Particularly Well Disposed Towards Him,  And There Were Some Who