True, there were times when it seemed to languish, to be dwindling away, when periods of crisis had swept away what appeared to be its chief support; but a breathing space was all that was needed, and soon the old spirit was awake once more, and life went on as bravely as before.
And so it went on for generation after generation, while the river flowed, broad and smooth as ever, down the valley, pouring its ice-water into the fjord each spring. Up the hillsides on either hand the roads turned up and curved among thicket and bush, and the higher one climbed the clearer showed the town below with its rows of houses and its churches.
Those who were born in the town and had spent their youth there, but whom fate had later moved to other parts of the country, made it a practice, when they came home, to climb the hillside and look out over the town, as it lay there rich in memories. And the longer one had been away, the stronger they seemed to grow; for there is a strange power in such memories of a little, old town.
II
KNUT G. HOLM
Knut G. Holm had had his ups and downs; no one knew exactly how he stood. Failure and crisis had raged about him, and many a time public opinion had given him but a short while to keep above water himself, but he always managed to get through somehow, though there were times when he had not credit for five shillings, when the commercial travellers gave his corner premises the stealthy go-by, in the confident belief that he would put his shutters up next day. But he never did. And at last it grew to a proverb, that Knut G. Holm was like a cat; you might throw him out of a top-floor window, but he would always land on his feet in the end!
In the little office behind the shop there was always a little gathering before dinner-time, between one and two, to hear Holm holding forth; for he was a man with an unusual gift of speech, and whatever might happen in the place, he was always the first to get hold of it.
Dealer Vagle was a fool to pay £1600 for that dairy farm—Knut Holm had no hesitation in saying as much; nor was he afraid to make public his opinion that Jorgensen the hatter was not such a fool as he looked in selling the property referred to. Everyone knew Holm's "gossip-shop," as the office was generally called, but no one took offence at his extravagant talk, for all knew he meant no harm, but was really one of the kindliest of men.
He was always terribly busy, for he had a hand in everything, from the Silicate Products Company, of which he was a director, to the machine shops, of which he was chairman, and which paid a steady 20 per cent. per annum.