Growth of the Soil by Knut Hamsun
page 74 of 539 (13%)
page 74 of 539 (13%)
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"Just as I thought," says Oline. "Folk with real sound sense in their
heads, they do that way. Fore-thought and back-thought and all as it should be. There's not a pot nor pitcher in the place you haven't thought of. A threshing-floor, you said?" Isak is a child. Oline's flattering words go to his head, and he answers something foolishly with fine words: "As to that new house of mine, there must be a threshing-floor in the same, necessarily. 'Tis my intention so." "A threshing-floor?" says Oline, wagging her head. "And where's the sense of growing corn on the place if we've nowhere to thresh it?" "Ay, 'tis as I say, not a thing as could be but you have it all there in your head." Inger is suddenly out of humour again. The talk between the other two somehow displeases her, and she breaks in: "Cream custard indeed! And where's the cream to come from? Fish it up in the river, maybe?" Oline hastens to make peace. "Inger, Lord bless you, child, don't speak of such a thing. Not a word of cream nor custard either--an old creature like me that does but idle about from house to neighbour...!" Isak sits for a while, then up, and saying suddenly: "Here am I doing nothing middle of the day, and stones to fetch and carry for that wall |
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