Hitherto Father Lasse had taken all very difficult matters upon
himself; but now Pelle stood alone, and had only himself to rely on.
Now he stood face to face with life, and he struggled courageously
forward, like the excellent boy he was. But at times he broke down.
And this struggle was a drag upon all his boyish doings and
strivings.

In the workshop he made himself useful and tried to stand well
with everybody. He won over little Nikas by drawing a somewhat
extravagant representation of his betrothed from a photograph. The
face would not come out quite right; it looked as though some one
had trodden on it; but the clothes and the brooch at the throat were
capital. The picture hung for a week in the workshop, and brought
Pelle a wonderful piece of luck: Carlsen, who ran errands for the
stone-workers, ordered two large pictures, one of himself and one of
his wife, at the rate of twenty-five ore apiece. "But you must show
a few curls in my hair," he said, "for my mother's always wished I
had curls."

Pelle could not promise the pictures in less than two months' time;
it was tedious work if they were to be accurate.

"Well, well; we can't spare the money sooner. This month there's
the lottery, and next month the rent to pay." Pelle could very well
appreciate that, for Carlsen earned eight kroner a week and had nine
children. But he felt that he could not well reduce the price. Truly,
people weren't rolling in money here! And when for once he actually
had a shilling in hand, then it was sure to take to its heels under
his very nose, directly he began to rack his brains to decide how
it could most usefully be applied: on one such occasion, for example,