made such a frightful din whenever they moved, but as the vehicle
at last drew level with him, and the old peasant drew up, he could
not resist the invitation to get up and have a lift. His shoulders
were still aching from carrying his sack.

"So you are going to town, after all?" said old Klaus, pointing
to his goods and chattels.

To town, yes indeed! Something seemed to grip hold of Pelle's
bursting heart, and before he was aware of it he had delivered
himself and his whole future into the old peasant's hands.

"Yes, yes--yes indeed--why, naturally!" said Klaus, nodding as Pelle
came forward. "Yes, of course! A man can't do less. And what's your
idea about what you are going to be in the long run--councillor or
king?" He looked up slowly. "Yes, goin' to town; well, well, they
all, take the road they feel something calling them to take....
Directly a young greyhound feels the marrow in his bones, or has got
a shilling in his pocket, he's got to go to town and leave it there.
And what do you think conies back out the town? Just manure and
nothing else! What else have I ever in my life been able to pick up
there? And now I'm sixty-five. But what's the good of talking? No
more than if a man was to stick his tail out and blow against a gale.
It comes over them just like the May-gripes takes the young calves--
heigh-ho! and away they go, goin' to do something big. Afterward,
then old Klaus Hermann can come and clean up after them! They've no
situation there, and no kinsfolk what could put them up--but they
always expect something big. Why, down in the town there are beds
made up in the streets, and the gutters are running over with food
and money! But what do you mean to do? Let's hear it now."