Holm laughed till he had to sit down on a barrel. Bramsen was in his element now; Andrine and the Salvation Army, Amanda and her tulips, were forgotten.
"Well, the day before yesterday, while I was stacking fish up in the loft, in comes an old gentleman, sort of learned and reverend looking he was.
"'Mr. Paal Abrahamsen?' says he, and looks at me solemn-like through a pair of blue spectacles.
"'That's me, your Highness,' says I, for I judged he must be something pretty high. Then he puts down his stick, a mighty fine one with a silver top, and opens a big book.
"Aha, thinks I to myself, it'll be the census, that's it. For you know there's been all this business about taking people's census ever since New Year. Well, if he wanted my census, I was agreeable, so I started away polite as could be:
"'Surname and Christian names, married or single, and so on, that's what you'll be wanting,' says I.
"'No, my friend,' says he, 'I only called to inquire—you speak Chinese, I understand. Several years in the country, were you not?'
"Well, I reckoned he couldn't be a Chinaman himself. I gave a squint up under his spectacles to see if his eyes were slantywise, but they were all right.
"'H'm,' says I, 'I know a little, but it's nothing much. Not worth counting, really.'
"'Don't be afraid, my good man. It was just a few simple words and phrases in the language I'd very much like to ask about. My name is'—well, it was Professor something or other—Birk or Cork or Stork or something—'from Christiania,' he said.