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Norse Tales and Sketches by Alexander Lange Kielland
page 33 of 105 (31%)
impending.

There fell such a sudden stillness upon the table, that one could hear
the lively chatter of the ladies, who, in accordance with Norse custom,
were dining in the adjoining rooms.

At length the silence reached even them, and they crowded in the doorway
to listen. Only the hostess held back, sending her husband an anxious
look. 'Ah, dear me!' she sighed, half aloud, 'he is sure to make a
muddle of it. He has already made all his speeches; what would he be at
now?'

And he certainly did not begin well. He stammered, cleared his throat,
got entangled among the usual toast expressions, such as 'I will not
fail to--ahem--I am impelled to express my, my--that is, I would beg
you, gentlemen, to assist me in--'

The gentlemen sat and stared down into their glasses, ready to empty
them upon the least hint of a conclusion. But none came. On the
contrary, the speaker recovered himself.

For something really lay at his heart. His joy and pride over his son,
who had come home sound and well after having passed a respectable
examination, the judge's flattering speech, the good cheer, the wine,
the festive mood--all this put words into his mouth. And when he got
over the fatal introductory phrases, the words came more and more
fluently.

It was the toast of 'The Young.' The speaker dwelt upon our
responsibility towards children, and the many sorrows--but also the many
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