Pelle was just going to push it down into the straw when the bailiff
--who as a matter of fact was not a Jute, but a Zeelander--happened
to turn round and caught sight of it. He told the boy to throw it
into the ditch.

By midday they reached their destination. Lasse awoke as they drove
on to the stone paving of the large yard, and groped mechanically in
the straw. But suddenly he recollected where he was, and was sober
in an instant. So this was their new home, the only place they had
to stay in and expect anything of on this earth! And as he looked
out over the big yard, where the dinner-bell was just sounding and
calling servants and day-laborers out of all the doors, all his
self-confidence vanished. A despairing feeling of helplessness
overwhelmed him, and made his face tremble with impotent concern
for his son.

His hands shook as he clambered down from the wagon; he stood
irresolute and at the mercy of all the inquiring glances from the
steps down to the basement of the big house. They were talking
about him and the boy, and laughing already. In his confusion
he determined to make as favorable a first impression as possible,
and began to take off his cap to each one separately; and the boy
stood beside him and did the same. They were rather like the clowns
at a fair, and the men round the basement steps laughed aloud and
bowed in imitation, and then began to call to them; but the bailiff
came out again to the cart, and they quickly disappeared down the
steps. From the house itself there came a far-off, monotonous
sound that never left off, and insensibly added to their feeling
of depression.