journeyman dressed and went out; the older apprentices washed their
necks in the soaking-tub. Presently they too would go out and have
a proper time of it.

Pelle gazed after them. He too experienced a desperate need to
shake off the oppressive day, and to escape out of doors, but his
stockings were nothing but holes, and his working-blouse had to be
washed so that it should be dry by the following morning. Yes, and
his shirt--and he blushed up to his ears--was it a fortnight he had
worn it, or was this the fourth week? The time had slipped past
so.... He had meant to defer the disagreeable business of washing
only for a few days--and now it had mounted up to fourteen! His body
had a horrible crawling feeling; was his punishment come upon him
because he had turned a deaf ear to the voice of conscience, and had
ignored Father Lasse's warning, that disgrace awaited those who did
not keep themselves clean?

No, thank God! But Pelle had received a thorough fright, and
his ears were still burning as he scrubbed his shirt and blouse
downstairs in the yard. It would be well to take it as a timely
warning from on high!

And then blouse and shirt were hanging on the fence, spreading
themselves abroad as though they wanted to hug the heavens for joy
in their cleanliness. But Pelle sat dejectedly upstairs, at the
window of the apprentices' garret, one leg outside, so that part
of him at least was in the open air. The skillful darning which his
father had taught him was not put into practice here; the holes were
simply cobbled together, so that Father Lasse would have sunk into
the earth for shame. Gradually he crept right out on to the roof;