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[Illustration: LISBETH LONGFROCK]




LISBETH LONGFROCK

TRANSLATED FROM THE NORWEGIAN OF HANS AANRUD



BY

LAURA E. POULSSON



ILLUSTRATED BY

OTHAR HOLMBOE



GINN AND COMPANY
BOSTON. NEW YORK. CHICAGO. LONDON
ATLANTA. DALLAS. COLUMBUS. SAN FRANCISCO

COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY
LAURA E. POULSSON

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

The Athenaeum Press
GINN AND COMPANY. PROPRIETORS.
BOSTON. U.S.A.




PREFACE


Hans Aanrud's short stories are considered by his own countrymen as
belonging to the most original and artistically finished life pictures
that have been produced by the younger _literati_ of Norway. They
are generally concerned with peasant character, and present in true
balance the coarse and fine in peasant nature. The style of speech is
occasionally over-concrete for sophisticated ears, but it is not
unwholesome. Of weak or cloying sweetness--so abhorrent to Norwegian
taste--there is never a trace.

_Sidsel Sidsaerk_ was dedicated to the author's daughter on her eighth
birthday, and is doubtless largely reminiscent of Aanrud's own
childhood. If I have been able to give a rendering at all worthy of the
original, readers of _Lisbeth Longfrock_ will find that the whole story
breathes a spirit of unaffected poetry not inconsistent with the common
life which it depicts. This fine blending of the poetic and commonplace
is another characteristic of Aanrud's writings.

While translating the book I was living in the region where the scenes
of the story are laid, and had the benefit of local knowledge
concerning terms used, customs referred to, etc. No pains were spared
in verifying particulars, especially through elderly people on the
farms, who could best explain the old-fashioned terms and who had a
clear remembrance of obsolescent details of saeter life. For this
welcome help and for elucidations through other friends I wish here to
offer my hearty thanks.

Being desirous of having the conditions of Norwegian farm life made as
clear as possible to young English and American readers, I felt that
several illustrations were necessary and that it would be well for
these to be the work of a Norwegian. To understand how the sun can be
already high in the heavens when it rises, and how, when it sets, the
shadow of the western mountain can creep as quickly as it does from the
bottom of the valley up the opposite <DW72>, one must have some
conception of the narrowness of Norwegian valleys, with steep mountain
ridges on either side. I felt also that readers would be interested in
pictures showing how the dooryard of a well-to-do Norwegian farm looks,
how the open fireplace of the roomy kitchen differs from our
fireplaces, how tall and slender a Norwegian stove is, built with
alternating spaces and heat boxes, several stories high, and how
Crookhorn and the billy goat appeared when about to begin their grand
tussle up at Hoel Saeter.

_Sidsel Sidsaerk_ has given much pleasure to old and young. I hope that
_Lisbeth Longfrock_ may have the same good fortune.

LAURA E. POULSSON

HOPKINTON, MASSACHUSETTS




CONTENTS


CHAPTER                                                  PAGE

   I. LISBETH LONGFROCK GOES TO HOEL FARM                   1

  II. LISBETH LONGFROCK AS SPINNING WOMAN                  12

 III. LEAVING PEEROUT CASTLE                               22

  IV. SPRING: LETTING THE ANIMALS OUT TO PASTURE           33

   V. SUMMER: TAKING THE ANIMALS UP TO THE SAETER           52

  VI. THE TAMING OF CROOKHORN                              68

 VII. HOME FROM THE SAETER                                  84

VIII. ON GLORY PEAK                                        98

  IX. THE VISIT TO PEEROUT CASTLE                         113

   X. SUNDAY AT THE SAETER                                 129

  XI. LISBETH APPOINTED HEAD MILKMAID                     139




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


LISBETH LONGFROCK                               _Frontispiece_

                                                         PAGE

HOEL FARM                                                   4

THE BIG KITCHEN AT HOEL FARM                               12

LISBETH'S ROOM UNDER THE STAIRS                            34

THE VALLEY AND THE FARMS                                   52

UP AT THE SAETER                                            68




LISBETH LONGFROCK




CHAPTER I

LISBETH LONGFROCK GOES TO HOEL FARM


Bearhunter, the big, shaggy old dog at Hoel Farm, sat on the stone step
in front of the house, looking soberly around the spacious dooryard.

It was a clear, cold winter's day toward the beginning of spring, and
the sun shone brightly over the glittering snow. In spite of the bright
sunshine, however, Bearhunter would have liked to be indoors much
better than out, if his sense of responsibility had permitted; for his
paws ached with the cold, and he had to keep holding them up one after
another from the stone slab to keep from getting the "claw ache."
Bearhunter did not wish to risk that, because "claw ache" is very
painful, as every northern dog knows.

But to leave his post as watchman was not to be thought of just now,
for the pigs and the goats were out to-day. At this moment they were
busy with their separate affairs and behaving very well,--the pigs over
on the sunny side of the dooryard scratching themselves against the
corner of the cow house, and the goats gnawing bark from the big heap
of pine branches that had been laid near the sheep barn for their
special use. They looked as if they thought of nothing but their
scratching and gnawing; but Bearhunter knew well, from previous
experience, that no sooner would he go into the house than both pigs
and goats would come rushing over to the doorway and do all the
mischief they could. That big goat, Crookhorn,--the new one who had
come to the farm last autumn and whom Bearhunter had not yet brought
under discipline,--had already strayed in a roundabout way to the very
corner of the farmhouse, and was looking at Bearhunter in a
self-important manner, as if she did not fear him in the least. She was
really an intolerable creature, that goat Crookhorn! But just let her
dare--!

Bearhunter felt that he must sit on the cold doorstep for some time
longer, at any rate. He glanced up the road occasionally as if to see
whether any one was coming, so that the pigs and goats might not think
they had the whole of his attention.

He had just turned his head leisurely toward the narrow road that came
down crosswise over the <DW72> from the Upper Farms, when--what in the
world was that!

Something _was_ coming,--a funny little roly-poly something. What a
pity, thought Bearhunter, that his sight was growing so poor! At any
rate, he had better give the people in the house warning.

So he gave several deep, echoing barks. The goats sprang together in a
clump and raised their ears; the pigs stopped in the very midst of
their scratching to listen. That Bearhunter was held in great respect
could easily be seen.

He still remained sitting on the doorstep, staring up the road. Never
in his life had he seen such a thing as that now approaching. Perhaps,
after all, it was nothing worth giving warning about. He would take a
turn up the road and look at it a little nearer. So, arching his bushy
tail into a handsome curve and putting on his most good-humored
expression, he sauntered off.

Yes, it must be a human being, although you would not think so. It
began to look very much like "Katrine the Finn," as they called her,
who came to the farm every winter; but it could not be Katrine--it was
altogether too little. It wore a long, wide skirt, and from under the
skirt protruded the tips of two big shoes covered with gray woolen
stocking feet from which the legs had been cut off. Above the