"Rud," he said, indistinctly, as if his tongue were thick and
unmanageable. He was staring enviously at Pelle's trouser pockets.
"Is that your father?" he asked, pointing at Lasse.

"Of course!" said Pelle, consequentially. "And he can thrash
everybody."

"But my father can buy everybody, because he lives up there." And
Rud pointed toward the big house.

"Oh, does he really?" said Pelle, incredulously. "Why don't you live
there with him, then?"

"Why, I'm a bastard-child; mother says so herself."

"The deuce she does!" said Pelle, stealing a glance at his father
on account of the little oath.

"Yes, when she's cross. And then she beats me, but then I run away
from her."

"Oh, you do, do you!" said a voice outside. The boys started and
retreated farther into the stable, as a big, fat woman appeared in
the doorway, and looked angrily round in the dim light. When she
caught sight of Rud, she continued her scolding. Her accent was
Swedish.

"So you run away, do you, you cabbage-head! If you'd only run so far
that you couldn't find your way back again, a body wouldn't need to