THE WIND-GNOME
THE WIND-GNOME
There was once a skipper of Dyrevig called Bardun. He was so headstrong that there was no doing anything with him. Whatever he set his mind upon, that should be done, he said, and done it always was.
If he promised to be at a dance, the girls could safely rely upon his being there, though it blew a tempest and rained cats and dogs.
He would come scudding along on a Færing1 to his father's house through storm and stress. Row upon row of girls would be waiting for him there, and he spanked the floor with every one of them in turn, and left their gallants to cool their heels as best they might.
Cock-of-the-walk he always must be.
He would go shark-fishing too, and would venture with his fishing gaff into seas where only large vessels were wont to go.
If there was anything nobody else dared do, Bardun was the man to do it. And, absurd and desperate as the venture might be, he always succeeded, so that folks were always talking about him.